


Sin With a Grin

by Batsutousai



Series: Tumblr Prompts [32]
Category: British Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Bondage, Hurt/Comfort, Jötunn Loki, M/M, One Shot Collection, Other: See Story Notes, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Voyeurism, loki is a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 57,788
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113987
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a challenge, 30 days of Tomki/FrostPudding, Not Safe For Work edition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mutual Masturbation

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. The characters of Thomas "Tom" Hiddleston is based on a real person, and no offence is intended; this is only for the amusement of myself and other like-minded (read: mentally ill) fans.
> 
> **A/N:** Starting off 2014 with a bang, 30 days of Tomki smut for your enjoyment.
> 
> These have all been pre-written and had a second glance-over by me, so errors should be minimal (one can only hope).  
> Each 'chapter' has its own set of warnings, found right at the start. Please do make note of them, as they change from day-to-day. The warnings this fic is labelled with are ones that appear in more than three different days, but they are, by _no_ means, a comprehensive list.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Self-voyeurism, magic-assisted sex, Loki is a little shit, PWP

Tom really wasn't certain how he got in these situations. Though, he supposed, having a lover who was a god known for his sexual exploits, it really shouldn't surprise him any more. 

The Tom on the screen let out a long keen as the Loki there slid into him to the hilt. 

Tom bit back a whimper at the memory, how absolutely, fantastically _loose_ he'd been after being subjected to a magically enhanced massage, and already fucked through one orgasm moments before. (Loki's magic had rather turned his refractory period into something of the past, much to Tom's unending torment and Loki's glee.) 

"Look how beautiful you are," the Loki sitting next to Tom on the couch murmured in his ear before nibbling at the shell. 

The 'camera' panned around, catching the helpless pleasure on screen-Tom's face. 

Real world-Tom had to tighten his fist around the base of his cock, trying to keep himself under control; he knew that if he came before Loki, the god would just get him worked right back up again. (Not that the same wouldn't happen if Loki came first, mind, but the chances were far less.) 

Thinking about his lover had Tom peeking over at where the god was lazily stroking his own cock, long fingers moving like sin against his rather perfect length. (Well, Tom thought it was perfect.) 

"Look at the screen," Loki ordered, breath hot in Tom's ear, and the human turned to look as the 'camera' moved in and tilted, looking up from the floor to watch the way screen-Loki slowly fucked into screen-Tom, the occasional droplet of old semen slipping out and passing through the view into nothing. Screen-Tom's own cock was beginning to fill again, not quite to leaking pre-cum, but bright red and eager. 

Tom peeked down at the same cock in his hand, which _was_ leaking pre-cum, had been for quite some time. 

Screen-Tom had begun babbling, praising and cursing Loki in the same breath, pleading for more, for less, for Loki to go _faster harder take me like the whore I am_.

 _" **My** whore,"_ screen-Loki insisted, and bit down on screen-Tom's shoulder blade. 

The same bite-mark, not yet healed, twinged in memory on Tom's back. At the time, it hadn't hurt. But after, after Loki had finished them both off for the second time that night, it had stung with sweat, and while Loki had been willing to help it scab over – because he'd actually _broken the skin_ , damn him – he wouldn't heal it all the way. 

Next to him on the couch, Loki let out a groan at the bite, and Tom glanced over to find his lover with his mouth open just the slightest and his hand's movements just a little too jerky; Loki would come soon. _Very_ soon. 

In fact, Loki came at the same time as screen-Tom, whose head had arched back to show off a throat covered in tiny bruises, proof of Loki's tendency to leave his mark on whatever of Tom's skin his mouth could reach. 

Tom, incidentally, came at the vision of screen-Loki's release. Something about the way he arched, fingers digging deep bruises into screen-Tom's hips, broke the last of Tom's restraint. 

Or, perhaps, it was the way he breathed out Tom's name like a benediction, like he was the most important thing in the god's universe. 

When Tom regained his equilibrium, he found himself in Loki's lap, the god nuzzling his hair. "I love you too," he murmured. 

Loki stiffened for a moment, then ducked his head to lick at the back of Tom's neck. "Round two?" he asked, and Tom realised he could feel the god's cock hardening against the crack of his arse. 

Tom groaned. "You're going to _kill_ me," he complained, even as he spread his legs a bit to give Loki better access. 

Loki let out a chuckle, rough with the hum of magic, and then the god thrust up into Tom, passage loose and slick and _fuck_ , Tom really ~~loved~~ _hated_ Loki's magic some days.

..


	2. Oral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Oral sex, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I opened the document, I put my fingers to the keyboard, and then I closed my eyes because I really just needed to put something on the page and fuck the world. XD

It was the distinct lack of arms around him that woke Loki. He had about half a minute to wake up enough to start getting concerned about Thomas not being there, when a tongue licked its way up his shaft. He reached one hand down, seeking his lover, and familiar fingers smoothly entwined with his as that tongue curled around the head of his morning erection. 

Gentle, loving, everything Thomas always strived for in bed, but Loki couldn't bring himself to allow for long. 

But now, part of him still clinging to sleep, Loki let the mortal have his way, sighing quiet pleasure as long fingers traced along after Thomas' tongue, just hard enough that he knew they were there. 

So careful, so slow, like Loki was made of glass. He didn't expect it to be as arousing as it was, and it didn't take him long to start leaking against his abdomen, unable to stop the whines that slipped past his lips every time Thomas' tongue flicked against his slit to collect another bead of pre-cum. 

" _Please_ ," he breathed at last, hips rising and seeking more contact with his mortal. He needed harder, faster, because he was on the edge and he couldn't–

Fingers wrapped gently around his base and warmth engulfed him. A tongue pressing just hard enough against the vein along the bottom, that hint of teeth as Thomas bobbed his head, and Loki was lost to the pleasure of his body. 

Lips against his own, tinged with his spend, brought him back, and he arched into the kiss, one hand grabbing for Thomas' perfect rear and slipping fingers, unerringly, into his entrance. "Slut," he breathed against the mortal's lips upon finding it already plenty stretched. 

Thomas' lips curled in a perfectly impish smile against Loki as he ground his hips down in just the right way to entice Loki's cock to a second round. "Good morning, love," the human breathed. 

"Oh _yes_ ," Loki returned and rolled them over to have his way with the man.

..


	3. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Alternate Universe – College, hints at previous homophobic encounters, sweet, some minor angst, the boys are adorably awkward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I've never actually done a college AU before, but it was the only way I could think of to manage the first time prompt. ^.^" Here's hoping none of us are cringing by the end...  
>  Also, fair warning, I kept waffling back and forth between university and secondary/high school, so if they seem a little young sometimes, I'm sorry. *shame*

When Loki had agreed to attend Pembroke College with Thor, he hadn't realised he'd be forced to go to _every_ sport practice the elder prince was involved in. He fought it – as he always had – joined as many extracurricular as he possibly could, cited his piles of homework, insisted he needed to make friends in his own year (preferably ones that _weren't_ jocks, thank you, Thor). 

He managed to avoid being dragged along for about two months, but Thor eventually learned to stop listening to Loki's excuses and dragged him down to the rugby practice, laughing with the three friends he'd brought with him to help corner Loki. (It's was impressively clever, given Thor's usual tactics, and Loki put up less of a fight than he otherwise might have as a prize for Thor using his fucking _brain_ for once.) 

Loki suffered to be introduced to the team, then settled himself in a position that would be immediately visible to Thor, but which was apart enough that their practice shouldn't disturb his reading overmuch. 

He was just finishing the first of the seven pages of assigned reading he'd brought with him, when someone dropped down next to him with a heavy sigh. "They're certainly going at it today, aren't they?" 

Loki looked up to deliver a rather scathing remark to the interloper, but he found the words dying in his throat at the vision that sat next to him; curly blond hair over angular features and eyes as blue as the sky. 

The young man smiled, exhaustion marked in the bruises under his eyes. "Hullo, there. You're Prince Loki, yeah?" 

Loki blinked and swallowed. "I– Yes. Yes, I'm..." He shook his head and gathered himself, eternally grateful that a life with Thor had cured him of any blushes. "And you are?" 

"Tom," the other said, holding out his hand like to a peer. When Loki took it, Tom's face lit up with a smile that scared away all hints of exhaustion. 

"Oiy! Hiddleston!" one of the players shouted. "Get over here before I double your punishment lap!" 

Tom's bright smile turned rueful. "One of these days," he confided in Loki as he stood, "I will actually be on time." Then he turned and started an easy jog around the field, laughing at the jeers thrown his way from the other members of the team. 

It was hardly the first time Loki had felt the pull of attraction to another person of his gender, but it was the first time he thought they might be able to move past his social class and titles, maybe have a chance to enjoy each other's company as others of their age were doing. 

Assuming Tom wasn't already spoken for. 

-0-

Tom hadn't been spoken for, as luck would have it. He was in Loki's year, though they were in different disciplines – Classics for Tom, Social Science for Loki – which was how they'd missed each other previously. 

Tom was more than happy to become Loki's friend, ignoring his status without blinking an eye, and dragging Loki along to all the most ridiculous gatherings. Loki was forever finding himself at rugby practices and matches, though he'd always avoided them in the past, and it wasn't uncommon for him to be found helping with the acting group, watching with wide eyes every time Tom delivered his lines. 

"I'm so glad you've made a friend," Mother said at Christmas, kissing his cheek. "You should invite him for Easter, as Thor does his friends." 

Loki rolled his eyes at the huddle of Thor's friends, all giggling over their cups of punch like they'd had too much alcohol. (They probably had, knowing them.) "I'll ask," he promised Mother, just to ease her mind, and she smiled at him. 

Tom couldn't come for Easter – he split his holidays between his family – but he was more than happy to visit for a few weeks in August, if the royal family would have him. (Like there had ever been a question.) 

It wasn't until midway through Lent Term in their second year, loose from just enough alcohol and curled up next to each other on Tom's bed, that Loki informed the other boy, "I have had fancied you since the moment I laid eyes on you." 

Tom blinked at him, slow and careful, and one hand pressed against the side of Loki's hip. "Okay." 

Loki nuzzled Tom's throat. "Go on a date with me?" 

Tom was quiet – too quiet, even – and Loki was just sobering up enough to realise he should probably pull away, when the hand on his hip slid around his waist and pulled him closer. "Okay," Tom said again. 

Loki was too happy to wonder overmuch on that silence until much, much later. And, by then, Tom had gone to class and Loki needed to run to make it to his. 

He would talk himself out of asking Tom about it before they met up again. 

-0-

Thor found out about them shortly after their fourth date, his bad habit of just barging into Loki's room – at home or in the dorms, it was a constant annoyance – allowing him to catch them kissing on Loki's bed, hands under each other's shirts. 

Tom had been worried and maybe a little afraid of the way Thor's eyes had narrowed, but Loki had jumped up and snarled at his brother for something _completely_ unrelated and so far in the past it was almost ludicrous that the younger prince even _remembered_ the event, let alone thought to bring it up at that _very_ moment. 

Thor had been so baffled, he'd forgotten his anger, and he eventually shut Loki up by grabbing him in a headlock and knuckling the top of his head while the younger prince squirmed and cursed, Tom laughing helplessly from the bed at their antics. 

"You could have told me," Thor said later, after Tom had fled to work on his homework, leaving Loki to deal with Thor like a coward. 

"It wasn't obvious?" Loki returned drily, cocking one eyebrow at Thor in a way he knew drove the elder insane. 

Thor grimaced. "You're not the only boy who hates sports, Loki." 

Loki shrugged. "Remember when we were kids, that one ball when Mother forgot to lock her dressing room?" 

Thor blinked, then his eyes widened as he retrieved the memory of Loki getting into their mother's pretty things, trying on makeup and jewellery and all sorts of accessories while Thor kept watch, trying not to giggle at the sight of Loki done up like a girl. Father had been cross, but Mother had laughed as she'd wiped Loki's face clean, telling Father, 'Children will be children, dear.'

It was not the only time Loki had got into Mother's makeups, but it was the only time he'd been caught. He'd moved past the stage when Thor started secondary, when the elder told him exactly _why_ it was wrong for a boy to be playing with girls' things. 

"I didn't–" Thor started, only to stop, because what could he say to that? He'd never made the connection, had never _wanted_ to. "I'm sorry..." 

Loki spread his hands, his shrug transitioning into a tired smile. "Hey, Thor?" 

"Yeah?" 

"I'm gay." 

Thor couldn't help the smile tugging at his lips, a hint of sorrow for years past in his eyes. "I think I can accept that." 

Loki nodded. "And I'm dating Tom Hiddleston." 

"You might have to give me a day on that one." 

Loki shoved Thor's thigh with his foot. "You'll be nice to him, or I'll sneak into the biology labs and fill your bed with frozen frogs." 

Thor didn't doubt him for a minute. 

-0-

Tom again came over for the summer holidays. With Thor out of the country on a 'We've Graduated, _Suckers_ ' holiday with his friends – that was the official name the group had given it while making their plans – and Mother agreeing Loki could take Tom out to the summer cottage, Loki felt certain they would have no interruptions when they had sex. 

Assuming he could manage to bring it up around Tom without stuttering over his own words, or being interrupted by one of the servants. 

The second-to-last night of their stay, Loki was tossing in his bed when the door to his room creaked open. He immediately sat up, reaching for the lamp next to him, expecting a servant come to wake him for some pointless reason or another. 

But, no, it was Tom, stopped and blinking next to the door from the sudden light. 

Loki flipped it off with a helpless smile. "Sorry," he offered. 

Tom shook his head and carefully made his way over to Loki's bed. He stopped next to it, not yet sitting, and said, "You've been trying to ask me something all holiday." 

Loki blinked a few times and, like always, his clever words escaped on the wind. "Uhm...yeah." 

Tom fiddled with his hands for a moment before blurting out, "I really like you, Loki. Like, really, really." 

Loki's breath caught at the same time as his heart sunk. This...wasn't sounding good. 

Tom seemed to realise that, because he shook his head, and Loki could just make out the flush across his cheeks and nose in the line of moonlight his curtains could never seem to quite keep out. "Please hear me out. I'm not– I don't want to break up with you. I just... I just need to get this off my chest." 

Loki let out his breath in a gush and grabbed for Tom's hands, dragging him down to sit on the bed next to him. "Don't _scare_ me like that. Git." 

Tom huffed a laugh and entwined his fingers with Loki's. "I'm afraid you'll be cross with me." 

Loki rolled his eyes. "Did you sleep with Thor?" 

"Did I–? _What_?! _**No**_!"

Loki grinned at the absolute disgust in his boyfriend's voice. "Oh, good. I can't imagine what else would make me cross with you." 

Tom groaned and tugged on the hand in his. "Ugh. You're such a–" He groaned again, then took a careful breath. "Do you– How much do you remember of that...of the night you asked me to date you?" 

Loki fell very, very still. He'd never forgotten Tom's strange pause, though he'd never quite found the courage to ask about it. He swallowed, then said, "I remember being more than a little drunk, and when I asked if you'd go on a date, it took you a while to answer." 

Tom squeezed his hand. "This is when you get cross with me," he warned, and Loki resisted the urge to sigh. "I thought... I thought you couldn't possibly want to date me. I mean, I'm _common_ , and you're _royalty_. I thought you were just..." He hunched in on himself a bit as Loki watched with wide eyes, slowly shaking his head. "I thought you'd seen the way I wanted you, and you were just going to mock me about it in the morning. And then spread it around the campus that I'm a great queer and–"

Loki pressed one hand over Tom's mouth, scowling. "I'm only cross because you thought me so _cruel_ ," he said, voice quiet with anger. But then he moved his hand away from Tom's mouth, tracing up his cheek and around his eye, to the wild curls Loki loved to bury his hands in. "Tom, why would you think such things of me?" 

Tom was silent for a long moment, head lowered so Loki couldn't see his expression in the limited light. Finally, though, he admitted, "My last year at Eton, a boy I'd developed a crush on did...well, he did something very similar to that." 

Loki's hands clenched – one in Tom's hair, the other in his hand – and he snarled, "I'll _kill_ him." 

Tom reached up and carefully pried Loki's hand from his hair. "It's okay, really. Sarah helped me get revenge." 

Loki had yet to meet Sarah, but he'd heard enough about her to know she had more than her share of a nasty sense of humour. (Loki secretly thought she'd stolen the share that was meant for Tom, which was why he was always so _nice_.) So he decided he could let the event pass, but if he ever found out who the boy was and came across him... 

"I know the stories say you royals can get away with murder, but can we _not_ test it?" Tom pleaded. 

Loki snorted. "As if I would leave enough evidence to have anything even _remotely_ connected to me." 

Tom moaned, leaning forward to rest his forehead against Loki's shoulder. 

Loki grinned and pushed his free hand back into Tom's curls, playing with them and enjoying the way they clung to his fingers when he tried to pull his hand away. 

Tom shuffled a little bit closer, until he was practically in Loki's lap, and asked, "What did _you_ want to talk about?" 

Loki froze and cleared his throat. "Ah. Well." And there went all his words again. 

Tom glanced up at him, the faint light catching on the glint of mischief in his eyes. "I saw the condoms when we arrived." 

Loki blinked a few times, then tugged a little too hard on Tom's hair. "Git! Think of all the wasted moments of debauchery we've missed out on!" 

Tom let out a startled laugh and hid his face against Loki's neck. "Loki," he managed, words stuttering against the prince's neck in a manner that was the farthest thing from unpleasant that Loki could think of, "we're roommates, and your brother's no longer around to burst in." 

Loki groaned and turned his head to speak into Tom's curls. "That's over a month away!" 

Tom nudged his nose against Loki's neck. "I never would have agreed before I managed to talk to you," he pointed out. 

"You'll have to make it up to me," Loki decided. 

" _Will_ I now?" 

" _Yes_." Loki managed to get Tom on his back in the middle of the bed, using a move that had worked a lot better in his head than it had in reality. Not that it mattered, much, with the bright smile on Tom's face taking Loki's breath away. There were faint bruises under his eyes, hinting at the sleepless nights Tom had suffered, worrying about how to tell Loki his own concerns, and Loki was brought back to their first meeting, when the bruises had admitted to his double life as both rugby star and actor. 

"I, uhm." Loki shook his head, clearing it of memories and trying, too, to clear it of this ridiculous uncertainty. "I looked it up, online, how this is supposed to work. It's, ah." He squeezed his eyes shut and rushed out, "One of us puts his dick in the other one's arse." 

Tom choked on a chuckle, which turned into a proper laugh when Loki opened his eyes to glare down at him. It didn't take long for Loki to relax and chuckle along, rolling to one side so he wouldn't crush his boyfriend. 

Tom calmed first, and he turned on his side and nuzzled Loki's hair until the prince had calmed down. Then he quietly said, "Okay." 

Loki gave him a look that he hoped conveyed his equal levels of irritation and pleasure at Tom's response before he asked, " 'Okay' to which bit?" 

Tom licked at the outer edge of Loki's ear, making Loki suck in a sharp breath because _wow_ , that was unexpectedly arousing. "Okay to all of it. You know what you're doing; I'm putting myself in your hands." He reached down to take one of Loki's hands, then brought it up to his mouth to kiss it. 

Loki took a deep breath and took strength from the trust in Tom's eyes. He could _totally_ manage this. Maybe. 

He used their interlocked hands to bring Tom's hand to his own lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, then rolled off the bed to collect the condoms and lube he'd snuck out to buy the last day of term. He'd considered just trying to steal everything from Thor's room – it wouldn't have been the first time he'd borrowed something from his brother, and he'd discovered Thor's hiding place on accident quite some time ago – but he'd kind of wanted it to be...special. Not stuff that was already half used. 

Required objects in hand, Loki turned back to his bed. Tom was still lying in the middle of it, watching Loki with a smile. And then, holding Loki's eyes, Tom sat up enough to pull his shirt over his head. 

They'd done some shirtless kissing a couple times, and there was the one time they'd got so excited, they'd both spilled in their pants before they could stop. (That event had made Loki's top twenty list of most embarrassing things ever, only staying off the top ten because they'd _both_ come.) And, of course, they'd gone swimming together more than a few times together, both here and at school. 

Still. There was something entirely different about being half naked, _knowing_ they were shortly going to both be _fully_ naked. Loki shuddered at the thought as he finished pulling off his shirt and tossed it towards his wardrobe. He kicked Tom's in the same direction before crawling back on the bed and dropping the lube and condoms – Tom would probably laugh at him later for grabbing four, but Loki could admit to being a little hopeful and horny, here – on the pillow Tom's head wasn't resting on. 

Loki straddled Tom's hips and leaned down to kiss him, the blond leaning up to meet him with a pleased hum. Loki let his hands wander, over Tom's neck and along his shoulders, down the sides of his chest to that spot just under his ribs that usually made him turning into a giggling mess, but once he was aroused... 

Tom arched against him, gasping into Loki's mouth. His hands came up, then, running up Loki's chest to flick his thumbs against the prince's nipples. Loki was the one who gasped then, closing his eyes against the shot of heat that went straight down. 

Loki nudged his hips forward, just an inch, and Tom whimpered and bucked his hips, unable to help himself. "Loki," he breathed on a plea. "Loki, stop t-teasing," he managed, breath hitching when Loki rocked forward again. 

Loki pulled back to look over his boyfriend, taking in the dark shade across his face – a blush, Loki knew, light pink and lovely – and the way his chest heaved slightly. Not that Loki was doing much better, but he had a bit of a tighter rein on his own body – or that's what he told himself. 

The prince took a breath, then raised himself enough to get Tom's bottoms out of the way, the blond assisting when it moved beyond Loki's easy reach. "You too," he insisted as Loki returned to sitting on his thighs. 

"I'm getting there," Loki replied, staring down at Tom's penis, curving up against the trail of light curls from his belly button and leaking pre-cum, which glinted in the limited light. He'd read a number of different descriptions of the taste, and he rather wanted to know, so he leaned down to flick his tongue against the drop. 

Tom let a strangled sound and grabbed for Loki. He caught Loki's hair first, then used it to pull Loki up and away from his penis. "That– That's–"

"Bitter," Loki decided. 

" _Dirty_ ," Tom insisted. 

Loki leaned down to bump their noses together, smiling. " _You_." Then he proceeded to swallow the whimper Tom couldn't quite contain. 

Tom managed to get Loki's own bottoms down a fair ways during the kiss, so Loki took a minute to kick them off before grabbing the lube and carefully settling between Tom's spread legs. 

"I need to, uhm." Loki cleared his throat. "I need to stretch you, so it won't hurt. O-okay?" 

Tom met his gaze in the dim light and smiled. "I trust you," he said quietly. Reassuring. 

Loki managed a smile back, took strength in Tom's trust, and uncapped the lube. 

He'd tried this on himself a few times, curious, but he always had a terrible time finding a good angle, so he usually just ended up with a mess. Once, though, he'd contorted himself just right and managed to not only get two fingers into himself, but also push against his prostrate; it had still ended in a mess, but at least he hadn't been left frustrated. 

With Tom, there was no contortion needed, just one finger slicked in lube and pressed past the muscles of the other's anus. 

Tom squirmed a bit and brought one knee up to push his rear off the bed. The angle ended up being better for Loki to slowly finger-fuck him, but he wasn't sure how long Tom would be able to hold it. "Pillow," he requested, nodding to a smaller one he'd often hugged as a child, but had little use for now he was grown. 

Tom handed it down and Loki pushed it under the blond, giving him something to relax against that didn't strain his calves. Tom let out a sigh and relaxed. "Thanks." 

Loki nodded and slipped in a second finger, letting his free hand smooth up Tom's abdomen, just skirting around his penis, and up to that spot under his ribs. 

Tom groaned, and arched into that touch, his eyes closing. Loki could just make out the curl of the blond's tongue moving between his lips to wet his bottom lip. Loki loved that motion, loved it best when Tom's lips were red and well-kissed and damp enough that the blond shouldn't need to lick them, yet he did it anyway. 

It was at three fingers that Loki finally pushed against Tom's prostate. A little harder than he'd originally intended, so Tom's shout of surprise and the way he nearly lost Loki's fingers in arching away were forgiven. Loki had to give him a moment to calm down, rubbing his stomach while his chest shuddered with each breath. 

"What–" Tom hiccupped, and Loki could _hear_ the indignation at it when he finished, "What was _that_?"

"Prostate," Loki replied, carefully brushing his finger against it again, just light enough that Tom would feel it. 

The blond let out a whine and pressed back against Loki's fingers, which he'd quickly moved away. 

"It's a pleasure centre," Loki added, separating his fingers to check how stretched his boyfriend was. _Enough,_ he figured and pulled them out. 

Tom whimpered at the loss and one hand made an aborted motion towards Loki, as though to try and push his fingers back in. 

"Condom," Loki ordered, nuzzling against Tom's knee, since it was still bent next to him. 

Tom took a moment, but he did gather himself enough to pass one of the little packets down. Loki quickly slipped it on, only fumbling a little, and slicked it up before capping the lube and dropping it over the edge of the bed. 

"Okay. Deep breath?" Loki suggested, uncertain. 

Tom obediently took a deep breath, which he then expelled in a rush as Loki pressed slowly into him. "Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God," Tom babbled, one hand wrapping around the arm Loki had braced most of his weight on. 

"Okay?" Loki asked, voice tight as he fought his body's demand to just start thrusting. 

Tom let out an audible swallow and nodded. "It feels...weird. Tight. But not–"

"It doesn't hurt?" Loki needed to know. 

Tom immediately shook his head. "No. No pain." He squeezed his hand around Loki's arm, and Loki could just make out a smile turning his lips. "I'm okay. Really." 

Loki chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, then carefully pulled back, nearly all the way out. 

Tom let out a quiet moan, which sort of rolled into a partial hiccup when Loki pushed back in, a little bit deeper. Tom groaned at the noise, while Loki turned to hide his grin against the blond's knee. "Are you la-ah-aughing at me?" Tom said, voice a bit too breathless to sound anything like how Loki knew he'd _wanted_ to sound. 

"Never," Loki insisted. 

Tom grunted and tugged on Loki's arm. "Get do-own here." 

Loki leaned down, and Tom was just leaning up enough for them to kiss, when the slight change in angle pushed hard enough on Tom's prostate to win his attention. He let out a loud groan and buried one hand in Loki's hair, silently directing their mouths together. 

Loki let Tom direct the kiss, brushing one hand up the blond's thigh and directing his leg to hitch up, around Loki's waist. The other leg naturally joined it, and Loki felt a bit like he had a particularly insistent leech around his lower half, sucking desperately at his penis and jerking every time Loki struck at just the right angle. 

He didn't last as long as he'd wanted to, but a quick pump of Tom's penis with the hand not supporting his weight saw the blond ejaculating between them, groaning something that sounded almost like an obscenity against Loki's lips. 

Both sated – and feeling far more exhausted than Loki'd ever felt after masturbating – they curled up next to each other under Loki's covers. They had enough sense for Loki to deal with the condom – though whether it actually made it into the bin when he'd tossed it was a matter for daylight – and use a couple tissues to clean Loki's hand and Tom's stomach – which went the same way as the condom – but then they were both falling asleep, legs tangled together in a way that was somehow both familiar and alien. 

Loki spared a moment's sorrow for them only using one of his handful of condoms. But it didn't matter, really; they had a whole day and, as Tom had pointed out, an entire school year of being roommates.

..


	4. Grinding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Character death, grieving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wasn't supposed to be nearly as heart breaking as it turned out, I swear. I have no idea what happened. T.T

Loki grunted and shifted just enough to make room for the body that was causing the couch to dip next to his hip. "Hey," that comfortingly familiar voice said, gentle as the hand that cupped the god's cheek. 

Loki turned into the touch, craving it like he'd craved nothing else before. He reached out for the human, refusing to open his eyes, because the last two times he'd done so, the touch had vanished when he realised no one was there. "I'm sorry," he croaked, and if his voice caught a little on the last word, well. 

It wasn't like Thomas was really there to hear, was he? 

Loki's hands connected with rumpled fabric, body-warm, and he ran his hand along enough to get it behind Thomas so he could tug him forward. 

Thomas moved with that easy expectancy that drove Loki insane on his worst days, coming to rest carefully on top of him, as though he'd known that's what the god wanted all along. "Loki, love, open your eyes," Thomas said, warm breath fanning against Loki's face, upsetting an errant droplet of salt water that shivered in his eyelashes. 

Loki tightened his hands against Thomas' hips and shook his head. "Can't," he whispered. 

Thomas sighed and lips pressed against Loki's own, dry and a little chapped and _perfect_.

Loki kissed back, arching his hips up to brush against the mortal, the hands on Thomas' hips pulling him down so they met. Thomas' breath shuddered out into Loki's mouth and the human ground down hard, perfect and right and everything Loki had needed. 

And, for a moment, he could almost pretend–

Pleasure spiked through him, real and there and Loki's eyes fluttered with the need to open, but he clenched them tighter shut, pushed his hips up more insistently, tilted his head and thrust his tongue deeply into Thomas' mouth, twining wetly with the human's tongue. 

His orgasm crashed over him and he let out a sob, opening his eyes to find nothing but the darkened ceiling above him. His chest heaved with release and suppressed sobs, hands clenching against thin air because there was _nothing there_. There never would be again. 

For Thomas had stormed out of their flat four days ago, Loki's furious curses chasing after him, and walked right into a mugging. When he'd been angry enough to fight back, he'd been shot, and the ambulance had come too late. 

Loki choked on another sob and turned over on the couch, hiding his face against the plush back and clutching it like he needed to be clutching Thomas. "I'm sorry," he breathed, voice catching and shuddering and breaking to pieces. "Sorry, sorry, so–"

Fingers soothed through his hair, gentle and comforting, and Loki pushed tighter against the couch. "Shh," Thomas whispered. "It's okay, Lo'. It's going to be okay. I'm right here." 

Loki shook his head and pushed back into that hand, trying not to wonder how long he could live with this ghost before he cracked. 

"I'm right here," Thomas whispered again, cheek pressing against the side of Loki's head. 

Loki shuddered and turned, reaching desperately for hands and a body that wouldn't be there if he opened his eyes. 

"I love you," Thomas murmured, lips pressing against Loki's. 

Loki's tears were hot against the too-tight skin of his cheek and he ran his hands through curls as his tongue finally let loose that phrase it had always held back: "I love you too, my Thomas." 

Thomas kissed him, hard and excited, like this was _really_ Thomas, and Loki kissed him back like he was real, like Loki hadn't killed him. 

It was all Loki had left.

..


	5. With Toys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Vibrators, Loki is a little shit, Tom's fun backfires, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have zero regrets.

When the buzzing sound started, Tom immediately looked for his mobile. It was on the table in front of him, screen dark, and he frowned at it uncertainly for a long moment before deciding to ignore the sound and go back to his book. It wasn't like he owned anything else that buzzed that way. Maybe it was a fly? 

The buzzing suddenly sped up. A thump came from upstairs and the tone of the buzzing deepened. "Accursed thing," a familiar voice snarled. 

Tom sighed and reached for his bookmark; if Loki was back from whatever mischief he'd been causing for the past month, he wouldn't be getting any more reading done for a couple days. "Loki?" he called as he stood, grabbing his mobile and slipping it into his pocket. 

"Thomas! Explain this contraption!" 

Tom blinked and shook his head before starting for the stairs. "Please tell me you didn't steal something without know what it's for. Again." 

The following silence was telling, and Tom paused at the top of the stairs to rub at the bridge of his nose and fortify himself against his sometimes-lover's klepto tendencies. One day, he would explain to the god _why_ being royalty didn't mean he could steal things, and Loki would _listen to him_. Maybe. 

(Probably not.) 

"What have you got?" he requested, stopping in the doorway of his bedroom. 

Loki was crouched over the floor and he carefully reached down to pick up something small and buzzing. He turned to Tom, holding it out with a scowl. "The wrapping called it a 'Master Ri'– _Why_ are you laughing at me, Thomas?" 

Tom hid his face behind his hands, unable to help himself. _Only Loki._ "You brought home a vibrator." 

"It certainly vibrates!" Loki snarled, tossing the bullet vibrator at Tom's feet. 

Still chuckling, Tom picked the vibrator up and considered it for a moment before turning it to the off position. He gave it a more thorough exam once it had stopped buzzing, making note of the lack of remote attached by cord. It was possible, he supposed, that the vibrator had only the one speed setting, but his limited experience with small vibrators suggested otherwise. Anyway, he'd _heard_ it change speed. "Where's the remote?" 

"Remote? There was no remote," Loki snapped, glaring up at Tom. 

Tom closed his eyes for a moment, praying for patience, then looked back at Loki. "What all was in the packaging? The vibrator–" he held it up "–batteries, I would assume, and?" 

Loki was still for a long moment before, reluctantly, holding out his left hand. On his middle finger was an unfamiliar black and silver ring. 

"May I see the ring?" 

Loki snatched his hand back, glowering. "No." 

Okay, so laughing at the vibrator probably hadn't been Tom's best choice, but it _had_ been funny. "I'm sorry, Loki. Did you want to know how this works?" 

"Of course!" 

Tom held out the hand that wasn't holding the vibrator. "Come here, then. You can keep the ring on, I just need to look at it." 

After a moment of silent debate, Loki finally stood and stalked up to Tom. "Here," he snapped, shoving his hand forward. 

Tom, rather than immediately looking over the ring, took Loki's hand and kissed the knuckles. "Welcome back, by the way. Did you make anyone cry while you were gone?" Because he knew how to smooth Loki's ruffled feathers, when necessary. 

Most of Loki's defences visibly fell away and he turned his hand to cup Tom's cheek, a mean little smile splitting his face. "Of course I did. There was screaming, too." 

Tom chuckled and turned to kiss Loki's palm. "Snakes?" 

"Of course." He dragged his fingers along Tom's lips, then dropped his hand to the vibrator. "Explain. What is so amusing about a thing that vibrates like a mobile." 

"May I?" Tom requested, hand hovering over the silver band on the top of the fake jewellery, which he could now see had notches in it. 

Loki sighed, but pulled the ring off and handed it over. 

Tom smiled at him in thanks and took a moment to turn the vibrator back on, then turned the control on the ring, making the speed of the vibrations change. "The ring controls how strong the vibration is." 

"Yes, I gathered that," Loki said, impatience beginning to creep into his voice. 

Tom bit back a grin and dropped the hand holding the vibrator between them. "Well, I suppose the best way to explain the point is just to–" he pressed the vibrator against the front of Loki's leather trousers, thumbing the ring in his other hand to strengthen the vibration at the same time "–show you." 

"Ah!" Loki gasped, grabbing for Tom's shoulders to steady himself as his whole body shuddered. "Wh– What– Tho–" He let out a whine and his head dropped forward as Tom lowered the strength. "Norns," he gasped out. 

Tom chuckled, unable to help himself. "It's a sex toy, Loki. Used for adding additional sensations to fucking." He pulled the vibrator away, biting back another chuckle when Loki's hips jerked forward to follow, and turned it off. 

Loki took a shaky breath and looked up at Tom. "Your race is far too distracted by your sex lives." 

Tom raised an eyebrow at him. "You're not, honestly, complaining about that." 

Loki snorted and straightened. "Of course not." He plucked the vibrator from Tom's hand and raised it between them. "What else is this for? Other than tormenting one through clothing?" 

Tom shrugged. "Any pleasure point would feel good from that. And you can put some in your butt, but without a proper cord, I woul–"

Loki's hand sparkled green, the magic making his eyes glint warningly, then the vibrator vanished. 

Something was suddenly in Tom's passage and his eyes went wide. "Loki, n– Oh my God," he moaned as it started buzzing, his sphincter flexing at the unusual sensation. 

Loki used his distraction to snatch the ring from Tom's hand. He turned it up all the way, causing Tom to clutch at him as his knees went weak. An arm wrapped around Tom's waist, keeping him upright, and Loki turned the buzz down until it was almost unnoticeable. "Get undressed and into the bed," he ordered before vanishing. 

Tom caught himself on the doorframe and stood there for a moment, regaining his breath and equilibrium. "Oh, God. I should have left him wondering," he moaned before pushing himself off the doorframe and towards the bed. He pulled off his shirt, wondering whether he would regret this or not by the time Loki was finished experimenting with his new toy. (Let's be honest, he knew he would.) 

Loki returned with two more of the vibrator/ring sets and Tom closed his eyes in surrender. "How are you going to know which ring belongs to which vibrator?" he asked as Loki dropped the three rings and two new vibrators onto the bed next to him. 

Magic sparkled over Loki's body, leaving him naked, and he gathered everything back up again. "I won't," he announced, then climbed onto the bed to kneel between Tom's legs. "Now, where best to put these?" 

"Oh, God," Tom breathed, dropping his head back against the pillows. 

Loki considered his options for a moment before settling one against his testicles, the tip pressing against his perineum. He turned it on once it was in place, on the lowest setting, but Tom still couldn't keep from arching off the bed, gasping at the jolt of absolute _pleasure_ the two vibrators caused. When the vibrator didn't even shift, Tom reached the hazy conclusion that the god was using magic to keep the damn thing in place. At the moment, Tom wasn't sure he cared that Loki was cheating. Like always. 

Loki let out a hum and the third vibrator turned on. It took a moment before he was stretching out above Tom, the vibrator stuck to one hand, which he then ran lightly over Tom's abdomen. His muscles twitched at the sensation and Tom let out a groan. Loki hummed again, then leaned up to lick along Tom's jaw. "Tell me where you want it, Thomas," he murmured. 

Tom swallowed and shook his head. "I don't– _Ah_!" he screamed, arching off the bed again as the vibrator in his ass suddenly kicked up a couple speeds. 

Loki tutted in Tom's ear, using his lower body to press Tom back against the mattress. "The third one, Thomas." 

"Nipples!" Tom gasped out, trying to rub his weeping cock against Loki, but failing because the god was pressing him down too firmly. 

"Certainly," Loki purred before attaching the vibrator to Tom's left nipple. 

Tom whined, pressing his head back into the pillows because it was the only thing he could really move with Loki's weight above him. 

Loki relaxed his upper body enough to press his own chest to Tom's, letting out a gasp as his own nipple connected with the toy. "I so enjoy your species," he breathed against Tom's lips before catching the bottom one between his teeth and tugging on it gently. 

Tom groaned and reached up with the hands he'd just remembered existed to scratch along the god's back. "Loki," he whispered, "Loki, _please_."

"Please what, darling?" Loki cooed as the vibrator in Tom's arse sped up again. 

Tom dug his nails in to Loki's skin and tried to buck against his hold. "N-need to c-co-com–"

"You need to come?" Loki cooed before biting down on Tom's lower lip hard enough that the pain cut through the haze of pleasure for a moment. 

"PleaseGodyes," Tom got out in a rush. 

Loki laughed against Tom's mouth, delighted and a little cruel, before he lifted his body away, returning to watching from between Tom's legs. 

As one, all three toys kicked up to their top setting, and Tom arched off the bed with a scream, coming harder than he ever could have imagined, considering Loki hadn't once touched his cock. 

Once the vibrators stopped buzzing, Loki carefully set about removing them. "I think I'll keep these." 

"I hate you," Tom slurred, drowsy from the strength of his orgasm. 

Loki kissed him. "If you're very, very good, my little mortal, I might let you use them on me." 

Tom let himself be dragged under the reaching blanket of sleep, wondering how much trouble he'd have to get into for Loki to consider him to have been 'very, very good'.

.


	6. Clothed - Getting Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Semi-public sex, Loki is a little shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I'm not sorry.

Finding their seats hadn't been hard, but Loki seemed _determined_ that Tom sit on his lap. Which, okay, really not proper and a little bit embarrassing, but you picked your battles when it came to the God of Mischief, and Tom had only put up a token protest before settling comfortably on his lover's lap. 

Luke didn't give in quite so easily, but after that sharp smile on Loki's lips had been turned on the poor publicist, Luke had wisely snapped his mouth shut and turned to watch the stage. 

Tom's award was fairly early on, and Loki let him go with no complaint when his name was called, then insisted Tom return to his lap once he'd returned from the stage. The award ended up in Tom's empty chair, leaving everyone's hands free to applaud. So, really, Loki's idea wasn't a bad one. 

Or, well, that's what Tom thought, right up to the moment he felt Loki's hips move behind him. Subtle enough that no one but Tom would notice, but still. 

And then he felt the familiar curve of Loki's cock against his arse. 

"Loki, _no_ ," he hissed under the cover of applause. 

Loki pressed a kiss to the shell of Tom's ear and breathed, "I do what I want, _darling_."

Oh, that stupid phrase always came to bite him in the arse at the _worst_ times. He honestly wouldn't be surprised if Loki had stolen that stupid shirt and was wearing it under his suit. _Again_.

"We are _not_ doing this in public," Tom hissed, turning his head just enough that he could glare out of one eye at his lover. 

Loki smirked and pressed a chaste kiss to the corner of Tom's mouth. " _We_ are not doing anything," he pointed out, eyes gleaming as a spotlight passed over them on its way to someone else in the audience. "And _I_ could do worse, if you really want me to." 

Tom's only response was to return his attention to the stage, lips pressed in a thin line of disapproval. He did his best to ignore the god, which wasn't easy with the way Loki shifted against his rear, cock teasing in a way that Tom's body was coming to know meant there would be sex happening in the near future. The fact the Loki was keeping any sounds of arousal to himself, at least, was a blessing. 

Mostly. 

Tom wasn't as surprised as he probably should have been when one of Loki's hands cupped him through his trousers, rough and familiar and perfect, and Tom had to bite his tongue to keep from moaning out loud while he tugged the god's hand from his crotch. " _No_ ," he hissed, and grabbed Loki's other hand before the god could get any ideas. 

"You're intending to walk out of here with an erection?" Loki breathed against his ear, tongue flicking out like a snake's. 

Tom had been trying not to think about that. He rather hoped that he could will his obvious interest away, but that would be difficult unless Loki let him sit in his own seat, where he couldn't feel the warmth of his lover behind him, and the cool breeze of his breath in his hair. 

One of these days, Tom would learn to say no to the god _before_ he got him into this sort of situation. 

Tom swallowed and let Loki's hands go, grabbing for the god's legs when one hand wasted no time in gripping him through his trousers. 

Well, the good thing about Loki getting Tom _into_ these situations, was that the god was remarkably good at getting him _out_ of them without anyone the wiser. 

Or, well, that's what Tom had thought, right up until Luke leaned over as they were leaving the ceremony to say, "Next time, tell him to cast a bloody illusion or something, would you?"

.


	7. Handjob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Loki is actually a sweetheart, quasi-sex magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Wherein Loki hides how sweet he is behind his usual 'I do what I want' veneer.

Normally, Tom really liked mornings. But it had been a long week, and he hadn't been able to fall into bed the night before until almost four hours before he was supposed to get up. When his alarm had gone off three hours ago, he'd groaned and shut it off before turning over and going back to sleep. Which only worked until Emma had come knocking, half irritated that he'd missed their breakfast date, half worried, because Tom wasn't the sort to miss breakfast with his 'favourite little sister'.

And now, here he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, trying to make himself do something other than stare at his tired face. Emma was downstairs, making a fry up, and he could hear the intermittent curses she threw at the hob, which was always a bit finicky. 

Light fingers trailed up his spine and Tom blinked a few times to make sure he was, actually, seeing nothing in the mirror. Then he sighed and dropped his head forward. "I'm practically hallucinating as it is. If you're actually there, do me the favour of not being invisible. For once." 

Invisible arms wrapped around his waist and a cool chest pressed against his back. "I'm not an hallucination," a familiar voice breathed into his ear. 

"That's what hallucinations always say," Tom complained, but didn't bother asking Loki to make himself visible again. The god would do what the god would do, and Tom was too tired to argue with him about it. Instead, he leaned his weight back against the god, figuring, if this was an hallucination, he'd just fall back into the wall and give himself a nasty lump. With luck, it would wake him up. Or let him go back to sleep. 

Loki took his weight without complaint. "Why aren't you in bed?" he murmured. And the question was pitched to sound uncaring, but that the god had asked at all was a sign that he honestly cared about the answer. Which, unusual, but not unheard of. 

"Breakfast with Emma," Tom murmured, letting his eyes close. 

"Ah." 

Tom's brow furrowed as a thought occurred to him. "Did you do something to the cooker again?" 

"No," Loki answered, too smooth. Tom could always tell when he was lying, only because he he actually let emotion creep into his voice when he was being honest. Some days, he couldn't figure out how no one else had figured that tell out. Other days, he wondered if Loki didn't actually have a tell around anyone but him, for some reason that was best left to immortal gods to decipher. 

Tom groaned. "Dammit, Loki." 

"You never trust me," Loki complained before nipping Tom's throat. 

Tom's breath hitched and he tried to pull away from the god. "No. Not right now." 

Loki refused to let him go. "I have no idea to what you're referring." 

Tom fell back against him, too tired to keep fighting when he knew he was trapped. "My sister's downstairs," he tried. 

"Is she?" Loki asked, voice falsely surprised. "Oh, my. I suppose, then, that I shouldn't do–" his hand slipped past Tom's pants and wrapped around his cock "–this." 

Tom arched into the touch, even as he reached down and tried to tug the invisible – _still_ invisible, Loki, really? – hand away. He didn't put much effort into it, though, and gave up completely when his pants vanished. "Tired," he got out on a whine as Loki thumbed his slit. "Not helping." 

"I'm always helpful," Loki insisted, and there was definitely amusement in his voice. 

"I hate you," Tom lied, because it seemed the proper response there. 

Loki hummed. His chest pulled away from Tom's back at the top before overly-sharp teeth nipped carefully at Tom's spine. His breath hitched and he immediately leaned forward, head drooping, to give Loki more room. He cursed the day the god realised that was his main erogenous zone. As if he really needed the help getting turned on when Loki was pumping him at just the right pace, thumb running over his slit every chance it could. 

The teeth bit into his skin hard enough to break it and Tom shuddered, grabbing on to the arm still wrapped around his waist as an added sense of stability; for all he knew, things were spinning wildly out of control. "Loki," he whispered to the floor, closing his eyes against the odd, but familiar, sight of his cock being stimulated by nothing. "Loki, _please_."

He wasn't even sure if he was begging the god to stop, or hurry it up. 

The arm around Tom's waist slid up to brace his chest and pushed him upright, so he was leaning against Loki again. "This is my favourite part," the god confided, nuzzling Tom's ear. "Look. Open your eyes." 

Tom did as ordered and found his reflection staring back at him through the mirror. He looked more wrecked than tired, any more, and his hair moved of its own will. Something shone green between the strands of Tom's possessed hair, and he had a moment to wonder at it before every point of contact with Loki suddenly flared with pleasure. 

Tom's jaw clenched – an automatic reaction which might have been from his fear of discovery, or might have been from Loki's magic – muffling his scream of pleasure as he came, ejaculate falling into the sink and in a streak across the floor. 

Tom sagged forward, even more exhausted than before and silently cursing the god behind him. He almost didn't notice Loki's breath against the broken skin over his spine, words in another language whispered into the wound. 

Loki shuffled them forward until Tom could brace himself against the sink. "You always leave such a mess," the god teased before licking up Tom's spine and – so far as Tom could tell without being able to see him – vanished from the bathroom. 

Warmth bloomed out from the bite mark Loki had left, soothing aches from the long week and energising Tom far better than a cup of coffee could have. He brought his head up and stared as the shadows around his eyes faded away, as though sleep deprivation were but a passing dream. 

"You wonderful, fantastic bastard," Tom breathed, grinning. "Thank you." 

There was no response, but Tom hardly expected one; he knew how terrible Loki was about accepting gratitude.

.


	8. Breathplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Voyeurism, breathplay, BDSM elements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I was like, 'How do I write breathplay for these two without any dub-con undertones?'  
>  Erm. Yeah.

It drove Tom mad, the way Loki carefully never requested anything in the bedroom. The god always went out of his way to make sure that everything was to Tom's liking, side-stepping all of Tom's questions about what _Loki_ wanted to do. 

So Tom finally got sneaky, installing a hidden camera in their bedroom when he was off to an awards show in America – Loki never wanted to go to awards shows, he thought they were a tedious waste of his time – and crossing his fingers that Loki, being the insatiable god he was, would take the chance to masturbate and give Tom some ideas. 

And, oh, it worked. Perhaps a bit _too_ well. 

Tom knew Loki got louder the rougher he got – though the god was always so careful with Tom – so it really didn't surprise him that when he masturbated, he leaned towards the BDSM spectrum. And the ability to call up corporeal clones of himself to act as the aggressor made it quite obvious exactly how far Loki was interested in going. (And if some of those clones' hair was a fair bit lighter than Loki's, and of a shorter cut, well. At least Tom knew he was wanted.) 

One act that Loki tried multiple times over the four days Tom was away, was having his clone choke him. Except, the clone would always fade away before Loki orgasmed, and he always looked so upset as he finished himself off, like he was missing out on a treat. 

Tom didn't really get it. But, then again, he didn't really get a lot of Loki's sexual interests, as it turned out. And he figured he could look around a bit, gather some intelligence on this subject. 

Which was how he found himself researching breathplay on the plane home, while Luke studiously pretended he didn't know him. (Tom had moved past Luke's embarrassment some time during the second year of his dating Loki, since the god seemed to go out of his way to make Luke's well-practised mask slip. One day, Luke might actually learn how to ignore Loki. At least the publicist no longer thought Loki was out to get him.) 

Tom wasn't sure how comfortable he was with the idea, but while he would never even _consider_ breathplay with another human, he knew Loki could survive a lot worse than asphyxiation, and very likely _had_. So he figured he could give it a try, for Loki, just once. See how he felt afterwards before he agreed to a second round. 

It still took Tom almost two weeks to work up the nerve to try choking his lover, though he did start acting a bit rougher with Loki in bed. Loki didn't question the change, but he always reacted beautifully. And Tom, when he was being honest with himself, realised that he rather enjoyed causing the god to bleed and plead for release. Which, well... He tried not to be honest with himself too often. 

But with over a week of sex a little on the rough side behind him, Tom didn't think twice when his hands clawed their way up Loki's chest to wrap around the god's throat. 

Loki's eyes went wide, his hips stuttering beneath Tom, and he let out the whining noise that Tom was beginning to understand meant he wanted more of whatever was happening at that moment. 

"Keep _moving_ ," Tom snarled, leaning a bit more of his weight forward on his hands. 

Loki's hips jerked up, pressing his cock deeper into Tom and tightening his grip on Tom's hips. "T-Th-hah–" He pressed his head further back into the pillow, baring his throat for Tom's hands, and his legs shifted so he could keep fucking into Tom, hard and fast and lacking all sense of rhythm, just like when Loki was seconds from coming. 

Tom grinned, bright and vicious, staring down at his lover as Loki gasped for air that wouldn't come, his eyes wide and pupils blown. He looked beautiful, falling apart and loving every moment of it. 

Loki whined again, lips moving with a silent litany of, 'Thomas, Thomas, please, please yes, please, Thomas.'

Tom leaned down a bit more, until nearly his entire weight was balanced on his two hands, and his hair, long for an upcoming part, was tickling Loki's forehead. " _Come_ ," he whispered. 

Loki's mouth opened with a silent scream, eyes rolling back into his head, and his hips jerked up once, twice more, then froze. 

And, God, it must have been good for Loki, because Tom could feel the excessive ejaculate seeping out of his hole, along the god's cock. 

He carefully pulled his hands from Loki's throat, wincing at the hint of bruising that was already showing. Loki took in a gulp of air, his entire body shuddering with it, and hazy green eyes looked up at Tom with a hint of wonder in them. 

Tom had to catch himself on Loki's chest when, unexpectedly, a long-fingered hand wrapped around his neglected cock. He let out a quiet whimper as Loki jerked him off, slow and sure. 

Tom came when lips pressed hard against his own, a demand all Loki's own that Tom never failed to respond to. 

"Thank you," Loki breathed against Tom's lips, his voice a little rough from the damage to his throat. Magic was sparkling over the bruises, though, so Tom knew he'd be okay. 

"I love you," Tom whispered back, nudging their noses together. 

Loki's lips turned up, whole face bright with a sort of joy that Tom only rarely got the god to show. 

And then, like a storm cloud brought on by Thor, Loki's expression darkened with suspicion. "How did you know?" 

Tom licked his lips and leaned back slightly. "I, uhm. I may have...installed a camera while I was gone?" 

Loki's expression blanked as he stared at Tom for a long moment. Then he burst out laughing, leaning up to press his forehead to Tom's. "My sneaky little mortal." He pulled back, smiling gentle and happy again. "You never cease to surprise me, Thomas." 

Tom grinned back, relieved and pleased.

.


	9. Against the Wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Loki is a little shit, pseudo-public nudity, pseudo-public masturbation, voyeurism, semi-public sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** There is not enough top!Tom in this fandom.  
>  Also, Tom, shame on your for thinking you could control Loki even a little bit. XD
> 
> Bit early, because I think my body's finally going to let me get the sleep it was refusing me last night. -.- *fingers crossed*

The day had been filled with interviews and promotions and _fucking Loki being invisible and following him around_.

Which, okay, that had been Tom's idea. It had seemed smart to keep Loki where he could see him, because Loki was a magnet for trouble, and at least if he was there, Tom had a chance of stopping things before they escalated. Which had worked perfectly at the start. And maybe people thought he was a bit odd, the way he kept leaning over to grab an item Loki had been reaching for, or holding on to thin air because Loki's hands had been twitching with the need to curse someone who had raised his ire in some way. 

Tom didn't mind. He left it to Luke – who knew Loki was there, even if he couldn't see the god – to excuse his oddities and focussed on keeping his lover under control. (Or, at least, what counted for control when one was dealing with the God of Mischief.) 

It wasn't until after they'd had a break for lunch, that Loki realised he would get more pleasure out of tormenting Tom directly. So he just...vanished his clothing. 

Tom knew no one else could see the god, but his knee-jerk reaction – which he had to bite his tongue against, because the camera was recording – was to shout at Loki and throw his jacket at the god to make him put _something_ on. Without that option, he was left to flush and attempt to ignore Loki as he answered questions. 

Loki made things exceedingly difficult by sucking two fingers into his mouth for a long moment, then trailing them down his chest, eyes on Tom the entire time. He arched under his own touch, reaching up with his other hand to muss his own hair, then play with his nipples. The hand with damp fingers wrapped around his member and slowly brought it to life, masturbating in the studio. 

Tom swallowed and shifted uncomfortably in his chair, trying to focus on the interviewer and not let his eyes stray towards Loki. 

Loki kept it up for the entire interview, moaning loudly every few minutes to make Tom look back at his display. 

"What's he doing?" Luke whispered once the cameras stopped rolling and Tom was free to leave. 

Loki chose that moment to orgasm, stringing ejaculate on the floor between Tom and Luke. Luke flushed, which made Loki cackle, and Tom just closed his eyes. "Yeah," he murmured to Luke before raising his voice just enough that Loki would hear to ask, "Are you finished?" 

Loki came up to him and pressed against Tom's side, still naked, to press a satisfied kiss to his scruff. "For now," the god murmured. 

"Will you please put clothing on?" Tom requested, the words barely louder than a breath of air. 

Loki licked a strip up the curve of Tom's ear, making him shudder. "Why? I am bothering no one like this." 

Tom very much wanted to point out _he_ was bothered by his lover's state of undress, but he had learned when further comment would just be adding fuel to the fire, and so kept his mouth shut. 

Loki behaved himself for the trip to the next interview, dozing against Tom's shoulder in the car. Tom was half relieved, half worried; while the god was sleeping, he was behaving himself, but he only took naps when he was planning a truly epic prank. The sort that would leave Tom wishing he had a set of handcuffs and a muzzle capable of holding the god. 

The next interview started off as normal as possible, for all that Loki was stalking around the room, naked. Tom did his best to ignore him, hoped he wouldn't regret it later, and resigned himself to being disappointed. 

After about ten minutes, Loki picked what was, apparently, the perfect spot and turned his back to Tom. He slid his legs apart, bracing one against a wall, the other with magic to keep himself from sliding. He leaned forward until he could see Tom between his legs, his member hanging heavy between them, and braced himself with one hand on the floor below his head, then reached between his legs and pressed one finger, sparkling green and shining wetly in the studio lighting, into his anus. 

Tom's mouth went completely dry and he tore his eyes away from his lover, hands dropping to his lap to try and hide his rising arousal. _Fucking Loki_.

Loki let out a particularly loud moan between questions, and Tom couldn't help but glance his way. The god had moved on to three fingers, lube dripping from his open hole and sliding down his perineum to where his sack hung. Beyond his sack, his cock had risen against gravity in pleasure, precum dripping from it to land on Loki's chin before sliding down, over his lips and into his open mouth. 

Oh, God. Tom was not going to last through this fucking interview like this. 

After the first time Loki had come along to an interview and started making enough trouble to be hazardous to other humans, Tom and Luke had agreed upon a signal to cut the interview short. They'd only had to use it twice in the year since, and this was the first time Tom used it to take his bastard of a lover into the nearest toilet. 

Loki came along without complaint, licking his lips and completely shameless about having got his way. 

"Fucking hell, Loki," Tom hissed as he threw the lock and turned towards where the god had braced himself against the sink, eyes glinting as he watched Tom in the mirror. 

Loki wiggled his behind pointedly and put on the most outrageous pout Tom had ever seen him wear. "You were _ignoring_ me," he whined, voice pitched high. 

Tom pulled off his jacket and dropped it to the floor before starting forward while he undid his flies. "How can I _ignore_ you when you're taunting me with what I can't _have_?"

Loki smirked. "You _were_ ," he insisted, voice still pitched obnoxiously high. 

"I was _trying_ ," Tom agreed, then simply shoved his cock into Loki's hole. 

Loki howled with victory, fingers clenching hard enough to make the porcelain of the cheap sink crack. "Norns, _yes_ ," he breathed out, pushing back against Tom to take him in even further. 

"You've _had_ your fun," Tom snapped, grabbing Loki's wrists away from the sink and using the moment of unbalance to turn them to one side and slam Loki against the wall. "It is _my_ turn, Loki." 

Loki grunted in surprise at Tom's action, then let out a breathless laugh and pulled his wrists free to brace himself against the wall. " _Fuck_ me, then," he ordered, eyes glinting green and too bright over his shoulder. "Use me like one of your _fan_ –"

"Oh, you are _not_ starting that shit with me again. Shut up, or I'll have a wank and leave." 

Loki snarled at the threat, but obediently kept his mouth shut, save for noises of pleasure as Tom fucked into him as hard and fast as he could, determined to make this quick because Luke was waiting on them. 

For all that he'd already come once in the past two hours, Loki orgasmed first, painting the wall with his spend before drooping against it with a pleased sigh. He was still for a moment before, without any warning, his arse clenched almost too tight around Tom. 

Tom had just enough sense of propriety left to hide his face against Loki's shoulder as he shouted his release, digging his short nails into the god's hips as punishment. 

"God, I hate you," he breathed as he slipped out. 

Loki turned around and stretched against the wall, smug and always so goddamn _shameless_. "Admit it, Thomas. I make life interesting." 

"You make my life hell," Tom retorted before crowding Loki back against the wall and kissing him until even the god's regenerative abilities couldn't hide the bruise on his lips. "Put some clothing on, or you're eating in the hotel room alone," he ordered as he pulled back to do his flies back up. 

Loki smirked and wiggled his eyebrows. "Would it not be better for us to enjoy a meal toge–"

Tom pointed a finger at him. "You've had your way today already. Behave tomorrow and you can tie me to the hotel room bed after my day's interviews." 

Loki took a moment to weigh his options, then let out a great, put-upon sigh and waved his hand to make clothing appear on himself. "Very well. Let us find Luke before he finds someone to open the door." 

Tom rolled his eyes and leaned down to pick up his jacket as he passed it. "You realise you're the only person who likes to interrupt their friends while they're in the middle of sex." 

"Lies." 

Tom only bothered with a snort in response.

.


	10. Striptease

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Stripping, slightly rough sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** Exhaustion and pizza, that's what I'm blaming this one on. XD

Loki had come home in a _mood_. Tom suspected he'd been called in by SHIELD again for them to check his 'progress' in 'acclimating to human customs'. Or something went down in the States and they'd been checking to make sure Loki wasn't involved. Or Thor had demanded another lunch date at some restaurant that he thought was fantastic, but which it turned out Loki would very much prefer to see burnt down. (Tom really sort of wished that Thor would figure out that his and Loki's tastes were practically opposites, beyond their shared love of sweets. Which, even then, Thor preferred fruits, while Loki preferred mints and chocolate.) 

Almost two years of living with the god had taught Tom that the best way to manage Loki's moods was to stay quiet, leave a bowl of something sweet near him, and hide in another room while Loki shouted abuse at whatever was on the telly. Loki would calm down in his own time and hunt him down. 

Except, this time, Loki still hadn't calmed down by the time Tom was ready to turn in. He sighed and glanced towards the bedroom door. It would hardly be the first time he'd gone to bed without the god next to him since they'd begun sleeping together, but it _would_ be the first time he'd gone to bed while Loki was still in a temper. 

That wasn't a precedence Tom was willing to set. 

_If only **cuddling** helped calm him down,_ Tom thought to himself, rubbing at his eyes. 

And then it came to him: Cuddling might not, but _sex_ would. 

But how to gain Loki's attention so he wouldn't just shove Tom away when he tried to get him horny. 

_Heh. **Horny**. That joke'll never get old._

The old horny joke made him think of the pole-dancer jokes he occasionally heard. And pole-dancing made him think about a striptease, which... 

_**That** might actually work..._

Tom had to hunt down a few more pieces of clothing – he was in nothing more than his pants, after all – but he wasted little time beyond that in hurrying out to the living room. 

Loki was still snarling at the television, but a glance at the current programme showed it winding down. Tom would wait until the credits to start his little show, since it was more likely he'd have Loki's attention, then. 

As soon as the credits started, before Loki could reach for the remote, Tom called, "Loki," and stepped between the god and screen. 

Loki narrowed his eyes at him and made a clear effort to modulate his voice so he wasn't snarling at his lover. "Now is a poor time to bother me, Thomas, as well you know." 

Tom took a breath and smiled at him. "I know. And I'm not trying to bother, I just– Can I perform something for you? I promise you'll like it." 

Loki huffed and slumped back against the couch. " _Fine_."

Tom nodded, took a moment to centre himself, then began slowly lifting his shirt, trying to time himself to the faint strings of music from the credits still playing behind him. 

The first shirt – he'd grabbed two, because he could – was off and he was started on the second when Loki started to take notice. He leaned forward and turned off the television, making Tom pause a little uncertainly; he'd still been using the last of that music to pace himself. 

"Turn around and don't stop," Loki ordered. 

Tom swallowed and searched his mind for a song he could move to, then continued pulling the shirt over his head, turning in place. 

He jumped when Loki came up behind him, hands on his waist and tongue licking along the back of his shoulder as Tom dropped the shirt off to one side. "Keep going," Loki murmured against his ear. 

Tom nodded and started on the flies of his jeans. He gave a little wiggle once it was undone, pressing back against the god. Loki breathed a heavy " _Yes_ " in his ear, so Tom continued the motion as he slid the jeans down his hips and thighs. When they were far enough down that he would usually just use his legs to finish the job, Tom bent forward in an easy stretch, pushing his behind against Loki's pelvis. 

"You little _minx_ ," Loki snarled, just loud enough that Tom could hear him from down by his knees, then grabbed a tight hold of Tom's hips and ground against him. 

Tom's breath caught at the sensation of Loki's leather trousers against the thin barrier of his cotton pants. "I'm not finished, Loki," he managed in a surprisingly steady voice as he straightened, his jeans tossed in the same general vicinity as his two shirts. 

Loki's teeth caught on Tom's earlobe. "Hurry up, or I'll take you _through_ your pants." 

Tom couldn't have stopped himself from whimpering even if he'd tried. And he wouldn't have, not when he knew how much it would turn Loki on, not when turning Loki on was the whole _point_.

Tom may have rushed getting his pants over the curve of his arse a bit, but he continued taking it slow once they were out of the way. He was just leaning over like he had for his jeans, when he felt the familiar tingle of magical preparation. 

And then Loki's cock was slamming into him, the leather he was still wearing warm against Tom's arse. He cried out in a mix of surprise and pleasure, nearly stumbling to get one leg free from his pants so he could spread his legs. Then he reached out for the television stand to brace himself against the thorough pounding Loki was about to deliver. 

When they finally made it to bed that night, Tom was pleasantly sore, and Loki was pleased as the cat who got the cream.

.


	11. Dom/Sub

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Alpha/Omega trope, omega!Loki, magic assisted sex, rough/animalistic sex, consecutive orgasms, rocky relationship, former abusive relationship, hurt/comfort, Loki is really bad at communication, Tom makes everything better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** This day was originally going to feature human!Loki and a BDSM club, but my general lack of knowledge about clubs left me at a bit of a loss, so it sat and sat and sat...
> 
> Anyway. Got a review for my Alpha/Omega FrostIron fic while I was staring at this day, and it sort of hit me, that an alpha/omega relationship is pretty much a dom/sub relationship, if a bit twisted. And I _do_ like this trope (though not the mpreg aspect, ugh), though I've avoided doing it for Tomki because Tom's in our world and that's just...weird.  
>  I tried?
> 
> For those unfamiliar with the alpha/omega trope, it's built around fanon werewolf pack dynamics, where the alpha fucks everyone, the betas are generally ignored, and the omegas go into heat and need to be fucked by an alpha. ~~(Do not get me started on how this is nothing like real wolf packs.)~~ This trope tends to lend itself to mpreg (fucking mpreg) and dub con.  
>  If any of that sounds uncomfortable to you, probably best to just skip today. (Though I do promise no mpreg or onscreen dub-con in this fic.)
> 
> For those familiar with my usual ABO setup, this is a slightly different take. Just fyi.
> 
> Posted early because I'm gonna be out of the house all bloody day. Tomorrow will also be a bit early, to keep it from running into _Sherlock_ again. XP

Tom stopped in front of the door, looking over his bags and checking off his mental list. He couldn't really think of anything he forgot to pack, and if it turned out he _had_ missed something, well. He'd only be gone a week, and it wasn't like they didn't have shops in India, or anything. 

"Thomas," a familiar voice interrupted as he was reaching for his suitcase. 

Tom closed his eyes and resisted the urge to curse; and there he was, thinking he'd get out of the house and to the airport without having to deal with his troublesome off-again, on-again lover. "Whatever you want, the answer is no." 

"Where are you going?" Loki demanded, anger in his voice. 

But there was something under the anger, something that sounded suspiciously like _fear_ , and it had Tom finally turning to look at where Loki was sprawled across the couch. He looked furious, but there was something off about the way his fingers were clenched in the cushions. "Sarah's. For a week." Tom crossed his arms over his chest to hide how unnerving the little signs were. "You can wait that much longer to fuck me against the nearest wall or embarrass me in public. Like you always do." 

Loki waved a hand at the door and the bolt slid home. "You're not going." 

"The _hell_ I'm not!" Tom shouted, tightening his arms across his body to keep himself from throwing something; starting a fight with Loki had not ended well, the last time he'd tried it. "You do _not_ get to come in here after two months and keep me from my family! Just because _you_ have a shit relationship with your family does _not_ mean that you get to fuck up _mine_!"

Loki scoffed. "I am a _god_ , Thomas. There's nothing you can do to stop me." 

A car honked outside; almost certainly Emma, come to pick him up. Tom took a deep breath and firmly let his arms fall to his sides. "Get out," he ordered. 

Loki froze. "Excuse me?" he whispered, voice too quiet. 

Tom ignored the alarm bells going off in his head, instead turning back towards the door and bending to grab his suitcase. "Get out, and don't come back," he said again. 

"You can't kick me out!" Loki shouted, panic in the words. 

Tom didn't look back, just shoved the bolt into the open position and pulled the door open. 

"Thomas, _please_."

Tom stopped, eyes falling closed in defeat; he _knew_ Loki, knew he would never say 'please' unless he honestly had no choice. "What do you want, Loki?" he asked, opening his eyes again to look out at the street. Emma was parked along the kerb, half out of her car and giving Tom a questioning look. He held up a hand in reply, requesting a moment. 

"I need your help," Loki managed, the words sounding like they hurt to get out. 

Tom glanced back over his shoulder, taking a moment to stare at the way Loki had drawn his knees to his chest and curled around them; for the first time in three years, Tom was actually seeing the _real_ Loki, the one that was always hidden behind lies and a veneer of superiority. "You need to give me more than that, darling," he warned. 

Loki looked up then, eyes bright with a level of terror Tom only ever saw in small children just woken from a nightmare. He swallowed, throat bobbing, and got out in a rush, "I need someone I t-trust with me for the next few weeks because it's so hard alone and I always do it alone and I don't want to be alone this time." He shuddered and closed his eyes, whispering, "Please, don't leave me alone." 

Tom couldn't even begin to guess what Loki was talking about, but he knew Loki well enough to know this plea – this _fear_ – wasn't a trick. This was honest, and Tom couldn't walk away when someone he cared about honestly needed his help. "Dammit, Loki," he breathed, setting his suitcase down. "I'll be right back." He turned and hurried down the walk, towards Emma's car. 

She read his expression, and the moment he reached her, she deadpanned, "You're not coming." 

"I'm sorry. You know I'm sorry," Tom tried, feeling like a tit; damned if he did, damned if he didn't. 

Emma looked past him, towards the house, and when Tom turned to look, he found Loki standing in the doorway, collecting Tom's suitcase and smirking at Emma. "Of _course_ it's him," she complained. 

"You promised you wouldn't judge." 

"I'm not judging," Emma promised. "Do you see me judging? No judgement here." 

Tom sighed and rubbed at his eyes. "He actually asked for my help, Em." 

"He's playing you," Emma insisted. 

Tom shook his head. "I don't think he is." He sighed and offered her a helpless smile. "I'm sorry. Give my best to Sarah and Yakov and Sophia, yeah?" 

Emma huffed and held out a hand. "Give me your credit card." 

"Why?" Tom questioned, even as he pulled out his wallet. 

"Because you're paying for at least two family dinners out, and something useless and expensive as apology." 

Tom sighed and handed the plastic card over. "Of course I am," he agreed a bit helplessly. 

Emma hid the card in her hand and nodded towards the doorway. "Go have hot, hot sex with your pet god. If you're not walking funny when I get back, I'm calling foul and using your money to buy a month's worth of food for myself." 

Tom shook his head and didn't bother returning that volley, just waved as she slid back into her car, stopped to shove the card into her purse, and squealed away from the kerb. 

Loki was still in the doorway when Tom started walking back towards the house, suitcase magically vanished. (With luck, Tom would be able to find it again without having to bribe Loki to bring it back from some alternate dimension.) The god's smirk had vanished, but he still looked quite pleased with his victory. Tom resisted the urge to pull out his mobile and ring Emma to ask her to come back. 

Only once the door was closed again, hiding them from the outside, did Loki's expression of victory crumble. He looked momentarily lost before he managed to put on a strained smile. "Excellent cho–"

"Stop," Tom ordered. "Just...stop. You've got your way, I'm staying. I'm going to make tea, and by the time I get back, you are going to stop pretending you didn't just ask for my help, and actually explain what the _hell_ is going on." 

So decided, Tom brushed past Loki's stilled form and hid in the kitchen. 

Loki came to find him just after the kettle let out a piercing whistle. He looked uncharacteristically uncertain, and it made Tom pull down a second mug before he started pouring. When he handed it over, Loki held it between his hands and stared into it, holding so still, it seemed he was afraid of spilling it. 

Tom brushed one hand against Loki's cheek, concern making his throat tight. "Loki..." 

Loki's hands tightened briefly around the mug and he hurriedly set it on the table, pulling away from Tom like a skittish animal in the process. "I've told you, before, that your films are not completely accurate," he got out in a rush, the words tumbling over each other. 

Tom thumbed the lip of his own tea mug and took a careful sip. "You have," he agreed neutrally. Loki would never explain _how_ they were off, beyond that the events were true, and Tom had resigned himself, early on in their relationship, to wondering forever. 

Loki opened his mouth to continue, held still for a moment, then snapped it shut and spun away. His knuckles were white, clenched so hard, he would have shattered the mug, had he still been holding it. Without looking back at Tom, a bite to his words, he said, "Humanity is always so lucky, to have been spared the curse of the others of the Nine Realms. To be born into a position in life, from which there is no escape. To be known, from birth, as the lesser in every way." 

Tom eyed the sharp lines of Loki's shoulders. "I'm assuming there's a reason you're not comparing this to humanity's general social structure," he said drily. He knew Loki was aware of such difficulties on Earth; he'd mocked humanity's way of dealing with skin colour and gender often enough. 

Loki snorted and turned to glance over his shoulder, face twisted with contempt. "Your petty troubles? Your people are more than capable changing their position in life; your science has seen to that. It is not so easy to change a biological imperative. The _need_ to be dominated, in every aspect of your life." 

Tom stilled, feeling a hint of discomfort at the turn this conversation had taken. " 'Dominated'," he repeated carefully. "As in, ordered around like a servant, or tied down on the bed and whip–"

Loki flinched, and Tom immediately shut up, taking in the wild look in his eyes, the way his hands were shaking where he had them clutching the sides of his leather jacket like a lifeline. 

Loki had said he needed someone he could trust. 

Tom gently set his mug on the worktop and held out his hands towards the god, not moving from where he'd leaned one hip against the worktop. "Darling, please come here?" 

Loki came in a rush, clutching at Tom's shirt as though he was the only salvation from whatever fear was dogging the god's steps. He pressed his face against the crook of Tom's neck, and something cold and almost _wet_ splattered against Tom's skin above the collar of his shirt. 

Tom wrapped his arms around Loki, heart aching for him. Loki had always gone out of his way to act superior, to be the one in charge of everything, and Tom had never once thought to question it. Just as he'd never questioned how, when he actually bothered to put his foot down about something, Loki always gave in without a fight. Or how, while curled up in bed together, Loki would always cuddle against Tom, the little spoon to Tom's big. He'd never wondered, because Loki was made up of a series of contradictions as it was, and these little things were minor, in the grand scheme of things. 

"Tell me what you need." 

Loki relaxed in a rush, a sob forcing past his lips. And, even though Tom could feel his shirt getting damp with tears, he knew he'd said the right thing. 

But, right thing or not, it was still difficult to wait for Loki to calm down. No amount of broken-hearted sisters and cousins could quite prepare one for a sobbing god, especially when the sobbing was so completely out of character. 

Loki did, eventually, calm down, but he didn't pull away like he normally would have. Instead, he transported them to the couch, curled in Tom's lap and holding his mug of tea between them, offering it to Tom like a gift. Tom took it and set it aside, silently showing his attention was completely on Loki, at the moment, and the god leaned against him with a grateful sigh. 

It was like that, spread out across the couch with Tom hugging Loki against him, that the god explained, "We are broken into three groups. The Leiðtogi, the leaders; the Annar, the seconds; and the Síðasta, the last. Most males are Leiðtogi, and most females are Annar, but there are always exceptions, and while those are treated as slightly less, among their groups, they are accepted." 

"The Sidasta aren't," Tom assumed. 

"Síðasta," Loki corrected as he pressed a little tighter against Tom's chest, stressing the unfamiliar accents. "And, no, we're not." Tom tightened his arms around the god, and Loki let out a quiet, grateful noise before going on to explain, "The AllFather always made me hide what I was, because a Síðasta prince was unheard of, in Asgard. He placed spells on me to keep anyone from finding out, and when my heats started, I was locked up, alone, for the length of them." 

Tom swallowed against a sick feeling climbing his throat. "When you say 'heat', you mean like when a female dog or cat..." 

"Demands to be fucked in hopes of impregnation?" Loki finished drily when Tom couldn't come up with a polite description. "Exactly like, though I cannot conceive unless I take a female form." He was quiet for a moment, giving Tom the chance to absorb that little bomb. "My heat lasts some weeks and it is...agony, to be left on my own," he finally admitted, the words hesitant. 

Tom pressed his face against the top of Loki's head, feeling a little lost under a wave of anger and pity. He knew Loki wouldn't react well to the pity, and there was little point in anger for a man already dead. "Your mum let him lock you up?" 

Loki shifted. "I'm uncertain how much she knew," he allowed. "I never discussed it with her, and she, like Odin, was a Leiðtogi; she had no experience with even the lesser heat of the Annar." 

"But Odin knew it hurt you, to be left alone." 

Loki shifted again and cleared his throat. "I...was not aware that my heat could be...pleasant, until I accidentally spent a heat away from Asgard. The lack of pain was..." He swallowed and shifted again. "I was betrayed. It wasn't worth it." 

There was more to the story than that, Tom could tell, but the constant shifting suggested now wasn't the time to seek it. "So you need me to take you," he prodded. 

Loki nodded, the movement stiff. "Multiple times. I– There is a spell, that will let you...keep up. But I don't know if there are side-effect–"

"Is there a chance it'll kill me?" Tom asked, because he knew enough about Loki's magic to know he could fix pretty much anything else. 

Loki shifted again, fingers twitching against Tom's side before quickly withdrawing. "No," the god decided. 

"Then we'll deal with what comes after, after. Cast it." 

Loki was still for a moment, then he pulled back enough to do so. 

Getting his first good look at Loki since he'd comforted him in the kitchen, Tom felt concern settle heavily in his belly; the god was sweating, brows furrowed in a way that suggested at pain, and pupils blown wide. If this was what Loki looked like at the beginning of his 'heat', Tom shuddered to think how he would have looked by the end if he'd refused to help. 

Loki's magic settled over him, familiar and surprisingly warm. _Too_ warm, even, Tom realised, feeling overheated. 

Overheated and _horny_ , holy shit. He felt a wave of need to be buried balls-deep in Loki _right that minute_. "Loki," he got out, half a plea, half a demand. 

Loki seemed to understand, for he immediately vanished their clothes, then shifted a little forward, raised his hips, and sank down on Tom's cock without any hint of pain or shame. 

It was heaven, being inside of Loki, and Tom let out a long moan at the tight coolness of him. It helped with the impossible heat filling him, but it didn't cure it. _Wouldn't_ cure it until Tom had fucked the god _raw_.

With strength Tom would later question, he shoved Loki backwards, against the other end of the couch. Loki whined at the loss of connection between them, and Tom wasted no time in getting to his knees between Loki's spread legs and shoving back into him hard enough to make Loki scream in pleasure. He refused to let the god pull him down for a kiss, just sped up his thrusts until Loki was too busy feeling it to want extra attention. 

He fucked Loki through two orgasms, the god screaming and sobbing the whole time, before thrusting as deep as he could and releasing his seed. 

The heat faded away, and with it, the strange animalistic daze. He stared at Loki in horror for a moment, taking in the way his entire face was marked with tears and saliva, recalling the way Tom had just fucked him harder to keep him from wanting a kiss. 

"Oh, Loki..." he whispered, leaning down and gently wiping his cheeks with his thumbs. "Darling, I'm so sorr–"

Loki jerked up and latched his mouth around Tom's, swallowing his apology. Tom wanted to pull away and apologise properly, but it was clear Loki wasn't going to accept it, so he just kissed the god back, tangling his hands in Loki's hair and pulling a little rougher than he normally would have. 

The heat rose in Tom again, not nearly as powerful, but obvious. "Loki," he whispered against the god's mouth, before gasping as Loki's anus clenched around his cock, which he'd never pulled out.

" _Fuck me_ ," Loki hissed, a challenge burning in his eyes, still damp with old tears. "Fuck me and _own me_ , Thomas." 

The heat rushed over him, heady with strength and the need to _claim_. " _Shut up_ ," he heard himself snarl as he shoved Loki's one leg into a surely painful angle, off the seat of the couch; he'd have done the same to Loki's other leg, but the back of the couch was in the way. He leaned in to whisper into Loki's ear, "You no longer make the rules here, _darling_ ," and could feel Loki's body shudder against him. 

When he bit Loki's throat, hard enough to break even his god-like skin, Loki screamed his name, hands scrabbling against Tom's back and leaving marks like claws in their wake. Tom responded by grabbing his wrists in one hand, unbothered by Loki's struggle to pull free, and held them against the back of the couch at an awkward angle. Loki whimpered, but he didn't stop meeting Tom's every thrust. 

Tom fucked him through another two orgasms, and finally came himself for the second time as Loki screamed his fifth orgasm of the afternoon. 

When Tom finally let go of Loki's wrists, they dropped limply against his stomach and the god sighed sleepily. Tom pressed a gentle kiss over the bite mark he'd left, and murmured, "You can't sleep down here, love." 

Loki grunted and closed his eyes. "Can." 

Irritation shot through Tom at the suggestion of being ignored. " _Loki_ ," he growled. 

The god flinched and motioned with one tired hand, teleporting them both to the bed upstairs. 

Tom hummed, pleased, and finally pulled out. Loki whined at the disconnection, but wasted no time in curling up against Tom once he'd laid down next to the god. Tom smiled and started running his fingers through Loki's hair, soothing both of them to sleep. 

-0-

"I'm not sure how I feel about this," Tom admitted after another round of vigorous sex, which had ended with the fitted sheet pulled up from one corner, and all but one pillow in a heap with the blankets on the floor. 

Loki hummed in absent curiosity, his fingers tracing what Tom thought might be runes across his chest. 

Tom sighed and gently ran a hand through Loki's hair until he found a tangle to worry. "What, exactly, was that spell intended to do?" 

Loki's fingers paused over Tom's heart for a beat before moving again. "It was created by an Annar wishing to be dominated by her partner, another Annar. It is meant to make an Annar into a Leiðtogi for the extent of the caster's heat." 

"Or a human," Tom muttered before shaking his head. "I turn into a bloody _animal_."

Loki glanced up at him, a smile teasing around his mouth. "You do." 

Tom tugged harder than necessary on the tangle he'd been easing, and a thrill of victory shot through him when Loki winced. "I don't like hurting you." 

Loki shifted closer, pressing a kiss to the skin over Tom's heart. "I know," he said quietly, something broken in his voice. "It makes it...easier. Another would mean it." 

_'Another **had** meant it,'_ Tom heard, though Loki would likely never truly admit as much. 

Anger burned in his gut, fanned by a level of possessiveness that Tom hadn't even felt for his favourite toy as a child when he didn't want to let Emma play with it. "Where are they? Your betrayer?" 

"Dead," Loki allowed. "The AllFather doesn't suffer blackmail well." 

Tom was sure there was more to it than that – Loki had always acted as though he considered blackmail little better than a clever child's trick – but he didn't press. "Odin didn't suffer a great many things well," he commented, voice lighter as the anger drained away. 

Loki snorted. "True." He glanced up at Tom, amusement in his eyes. "He would very likely have my head for trusting my secret to a _mortal_."

Tom dragged Loki up so he could nip at the god's throat, making him gasp. "I'd like to have seen him _try_ ," he growled. 

Loki let out a startled laugh, bright and honest, and he looked down at Tom fondly. "I love you as well, my Thomas," he said easily. 

'Love' was not a word easily dropped between them, not after the first time Tom had done so and it spooked Loki into vanishing for five months. Though, given this secret of his nature, which he'd been hiding so close to his chest and had given birth to so many scars through the acts of others, was it any wonder he'd shied away from Tom's declaration? 

Tom reached up and cupped Loki's face between his hands. "When this is over, and I can think again while I have you, I will show you what it means to be loved," he promised. 

Loki's eyes sparkled with challenge and he ground his hips down, against Tom's. "If I _let_ you," he purred. 

Heat flared through Tom's groin, warming him in a now-familiar way, and he wasted no time in rolling them over so Loki was beneath him, his legs spreading naturally to either side. "You assume I will _let_ you disobey me," he murmured against Loki's lips before quickly sheathing himself in the god. 

Loki gasped, body arching closer to Tom and hands grabbing for his shoulders to hold on. 

"I'll prepare you slowly," Tom breathed as he gave a firm roll of his hips against Loki's arse, "until you're writhing, just like this, begging me for more. And I will, but slowly, gently, drawing it out so you can feel every _centimetre_ of me, feel every kiss I press against your skin." 

Loki let out a low whine, closing his eyes so tightly, tears sprung up at the corners. 

"And I won't let you come until you know, without question, that _I love you_ ," Tom managed to get past the consuming heat, every molecule demanding he fuck Loki fast and unforgiving. 

" _Please_ ," Loki gasped, eyes opening to let loose a stream of tears. He looked broken open in a way that no amount of rough fucking would ever manage. 

"You are _mine_ ," Tom snarled. 

Loki met his gaze, soul bared. "Yes," he breathed. 

Tom set about fucking him roughly, bringing Loki to scream and howl his pleasure. Each sound made Tom want to smile with victory, for they were reminders that _he'd won_. Loki was _his_.

In every way that could possibly matter.

.


	12. 69

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Loki's clones, mention of previous violent selfcest, Loki arguing with himself (really, Loki?), double penetration (anal  & oral), magical energy boost (is that really a warning?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **A/N:** I apologise, in advance, if this is at all confusing. It's _really_ hard to designate between two Lokis when they're both the same gender and the PoV has no idea which one's a clone.  
>  That said, I feel zero shame about this.

It was never a good sign when there were two Lokis. It was even less of a good sign when they were both sitting on the bed, naked and wearing mirror smirks as they watched Tom pause in the doorway. 

"No," he said, wondering if he would be better served retreating back to work on the script he'd covered the kitchen table with, even though he _knew_ he was too tired to retain any of it. (Loki would bitch about the mess in the morning, but Loki bitched about everything. Even things Tom knew he enjoyed. Loki liked to bitch.) 

The Lokis' smirks widened. "You don't even know what I have planned," the one on the left said. 

Tom really wished it wasn't so hard to tell his lover and his clones apart. "I know you well enough to guess that I'm far too tired to–"

The Loki on the right vanished, only to appear behind him, hands curling around his waist and fingers plucking at the waistband of his trousers. "I can fix that," he breathed in Tom's ear. 

Loki could. Tom was quite familiar with Loki's ability to give him a jolt of energy that was just enough to get him through the last interview after a long day, or whatever Loki had planned in the bedroom which required Tom's participation. He sighed and leaned back against Loki, trusting him to take his weight, clone or real. "I'm not getting out of this, am I?" he mused, resigned. 

Loki laughed in his ear, warm and a little damp. "You're really not." 

A second pair of hands slipped up, under Tom's shirt and he looked up into the eyes of the other Loki. "What terrible things do you have planned for me?" 

They both laughed, and the one behind him started working on his trousers. "Getting you naked, to start," the one in front said before scratching his nails over Tom's nipples. Tom arched into the pain, then groaned as a hand slipped past his pants and wrapped around his member. 

"Wake him up," the one behind him ordered. 

The one in front of Tom smirked and scratched over his nipples again. "I thought I was." 

The Loki behind him growled. "Don't get cute with me." 

"If you're going to argue with yourself, I'm going to sleep on the couch," Tom threatened. Because, honestly, he'd been in the middle of Loki arguing with himself before, and it wasn't nearly as much fun as watching from the sidelines. (It had ended with an angry fuck against the wall, which had probably been way more of a turn-on than it should have been to watch the same man fuck himself, breaking his own arm to keep himself in place.) 

The Lokis traded a look before the one in front of him leaned in and caught his mouth in a kiss. 

Energy surged through Tom, better than a shot of espresso. He grabbed for both Lokis – right hand going back to grab that Loki's hip and pull him closer, left hand curling around the Loki in front's neck and up into his hair to deepen the kiss. The Loki in front's mouth turned up with a smile, while the one behind him chuckled and ground against Tom's arse. 

"He's overdressed," the one in front murmured once he disengaged the kiss. 

"He is," the one behind Tom agreed, and he was quite suddenly naked, pressed tight between exact copies of his lover. 

Tom groaned and turned his head to kiss the Loki behind him while the one in front of him leaned down to nip at his collar bone. 

"Would you like to know what we have planned?" Loki murmured against Tom's clavicle. 

Tom took a breath to consider that, then whispered, "I'd rather you showed me," against the Loki behind him's lips. 

They both chuckled, then the one behind him let him go, leaving it to the one in front of him to lead him to the bed. There, he whispered, "Stay," before climbing onto the bed and laying down on his back, head laying just in front of Tom's legs. "Climb up," he ordered. 

Tom climbed onto the bed and let Loki position him so Tom's cock brushed against his lips. He shuddered at the faint thrill of pleasure that induced, even as he leaned down to lick a stripe along Loki's cock. 

A hand brushed over the small of Tom's back just before two fingers breeched him. He'd half expected that, and he rocked back into the other Loki as he took a hold of the Loki beneath him's cock and took as much of him as he could into his mouth. 

"I think someone's hungry," the Loki behind him murmured as a third finger slipped in next to his first two. Tom only barely felt the extra finger, which told him Loki was using magic to speed it up. Which, well, Tom already knew the god was an impatient lover. 

"I think you're right," the Loki under him agreed on a moan before taking Tom into his mouth, deep throating him in one easy motion that was so many kinds of unfair. 

Tom moaned and rolled his hips down, into that mouth, before pushing back onto the fingers inside him as they pushed hard against his prostate. He pulled off Loki to call back, "I hate you both," before leaning down to nip at Loki's sack. 

The Loki underneath him's hips jerked and the Loki behind Tom chuckled as he withdrew his fingers. "We could leave you to your own devices, if you'd prefer?" he suggested, pressing something – thumb or the tip of his cock, Tom couldn't really tell, and Loki was equally likely to use either – against his perineum. 

The Loki under Tom choked and pulled off of Tom with a pop. "Fuck him already, you ugly fuck." 

Tom pushed back towards the Loki behind him and breathed, "Please?" Because that was the fastest way he could think of to keep the two of them from snarling at each other. 

"You should learn some manners from Thomas," the Loki behind him informed his counterpart before smoothly sliding into Tom. 

The Loki beneath Tom let out a wordless snarl, which tapered off into a moan when Tom very purposefully tongued his slit. He did seem to take it as a reminder to pay attention to Tom, though, because he returned to worshipping Tom's cock with a vengeance. 

Between the Loki fucking into him and the one beneath him sucking him off, Tom's hips were a bit out of control, wanting more of both at the same time. Which, really, he completely agreed with, and if he hadn't determinately filled his mouth with Loki, he probably would have been begging for more. (Loki hadn't thought this game out fully, clearly; he loved hearing Tom beg.) 

"You're so beautiful when you give in to me, my Thomas," the Loki behind him commented, pace slowing and hands smoothing up Tom's sides. "So perfect." He reached around and touched shockingly cold fingers to Tom's nipples. 

Tom whined around his mouthful, arching away from the chill. Which, from the pleased hum Loki made, had been exactly his intention. 

Tom choked on the cock in his mouth when a finger slipped in beside the cock already in him. Behind him, Loki hissed in surprise, then snarled, "Stop that, you wretch." 

A second finger slipped in next to the first at the same time as a thumb pressed gently against his perineum and Loki's cock inside him hit against his prostate. And Tom was coming, shooting down Loki's throat with enough force that hopefully the smug bastard would _choke_.

God, it was really rude when Loki and his clones timed things just perfectly like that. 

The Loki beneath him vanished just before the Loki behind him came, the former clearly having been the clone. "Damn," Loki gasped out, hands running soothingly down Tom's sides and back before cupping his rear. He carefully pulled out and Tom couldn't help but hiss. "That little shit," Loki growled before one hand pressed gently against his anus. Magic soothed over the ache and Tom breathed out in relief. 

Loki climbed onto the bed and pulled Tom with him up to the pillows, arranging his body as he pleased. "He wasn't supposed to hurt you," he complained. 

Tom sighed and kissed Loki's throat, since it was there. "Stop bitching about something you would have done yourself." 

"Would not," Loki muttered, but he settled down, the covers drawing up over them on their own. 

"Shut up," Tom ordered, because the exhaustion had finally caught up with him and he was _not_ putting up with his lover's multiple personality issues right then. 

Loki huffed and kissed the top of his head. He didn't say another word and Tom dropped off to sleep in peace.

.


	13. Rimming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Rimming, sex under the influence of magic (everything's consensual, though), bondage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one should not have been as difficult for me to write as it was. :/

Loki was so sensitive about his butt, Tom really wasn't sure what to do with him, sometimes. If Tom so much as poked one of Loki's arse cheeks, he would flinch and shy away. It didn't really matter what they were doing; whether it was sexual or an accident, if Tom touched Loki's behind, everything got put on hold. 

It had been fun, for a while, but Tom eventually reached the point where he was tired of not being able to touch his lover wherever he wanted. And Loki, too, had long grown irritated with the instinctive reaction that he could neither control, nor knew the reason behind. (He'd spent a week searching his memories with magic to figure it out, but he'd been unable to pinpoint the moment when he started flinching away from someone touching his rear.) 

They'd tried any number of ways to get him to stop flinching, even going so far as to cast a spell – which had gone horribly awry, and Luke had nearly murdered Tom for the public mess he'd been left to smooth over – but none of them had had an effect. 

All things considered, Tom really shouldn't have been as surprised as he was to come home to Loki looking vaguely drugged and tied to their bed face down with ropes that glowed. 

"Do I want to know?" he asked, unbuttoning his shirt to change into something more comfortable. 

Loki blinked slowly around at him, pupils blown wide. "Can't fight back," he said, and there was a hint of a slur to his words. "You can do as you please." 

"No," was Tom's immediate response, because there were lines he wasn't going to cross. He hurried over and grabbed the nearest rope, looking for a way to undo the knot, but Loki grabbed his arm, grip no where near its usual, inhuman strength. 

"Thomas," Loki whispered, and there was a complicated mess of pleading and distance and exhaustion in his eyes. "Please. I trust you. I _need_ this." 

Tom swallowed hard and let one hand fall from the rope so he could cup Loki's cheek. "Darling, I can't force you into something you don't want." 

"I _do_ ," Loki said, and there was a spark of his usual self for a moment, in the gleam of his eyes, but it was quickly swallowed by whatever drugs or magic he'd used on himself to force compliance. "I want this so much. Please, my Thomas. _Please_."

Tom broke at that last 'please', and he ducked his head down to force the god into a heated kiss, mentally acknowledging, _'I'm going to Hell.'_

He'd had plenty of time to think about how he might train Loki's body to enjoy having his rear touched, and had a few options to pick from. Some of them had been tried in the past, and while Tom hadn't quite scratched them off the list, he did move them to more of a 'not the first time' status. 

This time, he decided to go with something a girlfriend had done for him ages ago. He'd wanted to do it for Loki, but it sort of required him to hold still, so it had started out with a 'not the first time' status. With Loki tied down, though, he might just be able to manage it. 

He pulled the shirt he'd just changed into off, then climbed onto the bed behind his lover, nudging Loki legs apart so he could sit between them. Loki's butt immediately clenched and the god let out a slightly irritated sound. "Shh, love," Tom murmured, rubbing at the small of Loki's back. 

"Just do it," Loki whispered, sounding more than a little bit pitiful. 

"Absolutely not. We're going at my pace." And with Loki tied down, it would actually stay that way. For once. 

Loki let out a tired groan, which quickly turned into a hiss as Tom started rubbing lower, hand brushing against the top of his crack. "Thomas..." Loki whined, body flinching rhythmically. 

Tom sighed and leaned down to kiss one cheek, earning him a pitiful whine and a clench, then the other, which got more of the same. He stopped rubbing Loki's tailbone to squeeze both gluteus maximi. Loki gasped and made a weak attempt to get away. 

He brought his hands around to Loki's sides, pressing his fingers lightly to the front of the god's pelvic bone. "Here, love. Can you get up on your knees?" 

Loki groaned and weakly helped Tom get his knees under him. He held the position for a moment on his own as Tom shifted his hands around, but as soon as Tom touched his rear again, Loki flinched away and his knees gave out. 

Tom had been expecting that reaction, however, and easily caught him, sliding forward to help brace the god as he pulled Loki's butt cheeks apart to bare his anus. It was twitching under his scrutiny, and Tom let himself smile only because Loki couldn't see him. "Hello there," he whispered, then leaned forward and licked a stripe from the centre of Loki's perineum to just past his hole. 

Loki let out a shout, his whole body jerking. Tom peeked up to find the god's hands clenched around the magical rope, as though he intended to tear it and put an end to this, but the rope wasn't budging. (Tom really hoped Loki had remembered to reinforce the bed frame, too, or one of them was going to get clocked with it.) 

Tom returned his attention to his current treasure, changing his grip a bit to stand up against another full-body flinch, then leaned back in to circle Loki's pucker with his tongue, getting it nice and wet as it twitched and Loki whined, the muscles of his arse flexing under Tom's hands. 

Once he felt Loki was sufficiently wet and the twitching of his anus had tapered off a bit, Tom carefully pressed his tongue into the centre of the muscle. 

Loki let out a shout and tried to pull away again, but it was weak and he mostly just managed to rock against Tom's tongue. "Norns, Norns, Norns, Norns..." he chanted against the pillows. 

Tom didn't stop pushing until his tongue was in as far as it would go. After taking a moment to breathe through his nose, he started thrusting his tongue in and out of Loki's anus, mirroring what he'd very much like to do with his cock, if Loki would let him draw this out long enough. 

Loki wailed the whole time, sounding more elated than terrified, which Tom couldn't help but count as a win. When Tom held his tongue in as far as it would go and started pressing against the edges of Loki's hole, the god whimpered and, impossibly, pressed _back_ against Tom's face. 

Tom grinned and slipped a thumb in next to his tongue, stretching his lover a bit more before pulling back to ask, "Yes?" 

"Please, more, please," Loki gasped, pushing back again and whining when that didn't make Tom's thumb go in any further. 

Tom kissed one butt cheek just because he could and warned, "If we're going any further, I need the lube. Wherever you hid it." 

Loki groaned and pressed his face into the pillows, muffling what sounded like a rather emphatic ' _shit_ '. Which almost certainly meant he'd vanished it to somewhere not their house the last time Tom tried to get him to use it, because _Loki_ had _magic_. Bloody gods. 

Tom sighed and pressed his thumb in a little farther as he thought over the other things he had that might work. Recalling the coconut oil he'd bought for popcorn, he kissed Loki's bum again. "Half a mo'," he warned as he slipped his thumb from Loki's arse. 

Loki whined. "Nooooo. You don't–"

Tom lightly slapped his thigh. "I do. Shut up and stop vanishing my things." He hurried off the bed and out of the room before Loki could regain enough cognitive function to convince Tom he didn't _need_ lubricant. 

The coconut oil wasn't hard to find, since Loki had trouble with the concept of putting things away after he used them, so it only took a moment to grab it and return to the bedroom. Which was more than enough time for Loki to start eyeing his glowing binding speculatively. 

"Stop that," Tom ordered as he deposited the coconut oil on the bed and leaned down for a kiss. 

Loki moaned into the kiss, and when Tom pulled back, his eyes were hazy. But as Tom crawled back onto the bed behind him, he shook his head and warned, "Wearing off." 

Tom licked over Loki's anus again as he considered that. "And the ropes?" he asked over Loki's whine, trying not to smile at the way the god pushed back against him. 

"Ropes?" Loki repeated uncertainly. 

"Can you break them once your spell wears off?" Tom explained, because he knew enough about Loki's magic to know there were at least two different spells in play right now. 

"Do–n't know," Loki managed, voice hitching as Tom breeched him again with his tongue. "Please. Please more. Quickly." 

Tom pulled out his tongue as he pushed in a thumb slick with coconut oil. "I'm not rushing this, Loki," he warned before kissing one cheek. 

"But–"

Tom sighed. "I don't want one quick fuck, darling, or to only have you when you're held back by magic." He pushed in his other thumb, carefully stretching Loki's sphincter as he whimpered into a pillow. "I want you with your arms around me, or in the shower, or over the kitchen table, scratching at the marble." He licked a stripe between his thumbs, pushing hard enough to tug on the stretched edges of Loki's hole, and the god cried out, pushing back against him for more, so Tom did it again before slipping one thumb out to cover the rest of his fingers in coconut oil. 

As he pushed two fingers in next to his thumb, he leaned up to kiss away the sweat gleaming across the god's back. "I want to know we won't cause an incident if my hand slips a little low on the red carpet." Loki whimpered. "I want to not be the only one shifting in his chair after a fifteen minute break during an interview." 

"Yesyesyes," Loki chanted, pushing back hard into the third finger Tom added. "Please yes." 

Tom chuckled against Loki's spine, then drew back so he could shimmy, one-handed, out of his trousers and pants – should have done that before getting back in bed, dammit – then slick himself up. 

When he pulled out the fingers that had still been inside Loki, occasionally stroking against his prostate just because they could, the god let out a pathetic sound and his bum pushed backward, seeking. It was so completely opposite from how Loki usually reacted that Tom just sort of had to watch it for a moment, hypnotised. 

" _Thomas_ ," Loki growled, sounding so much like his normal self, it smacked Tom out of his preoccupation. 

He sat up and rubbed a hand over Loki's arse, watching for the familiar flinch and clench, but it didn't come. He grinned and started pressing in, knowing that the time for teasing was over. 

Indeed, Loki pressed back against him with only the faintest hint of resistance. And when Tom grabbed the god's hips to try and make him be still for a moment, he growled, "Don't you _dare_ ," and pulled against the restraining hands. 

"We're going to regret this," Tom warned as he gave in to Loki's insistence and just started fucking him. 

Loki's only response was to moan around a snarl. And, oh God, that sound probably should not have been as much of a turn-on as it was. 

For the first time in their relationship, it was Loki who released first, snarling curses in a dozen languages – not a one of them from Earth, so far as Tom could tell – and gripping so tightly to the ropes, Tom thought for certain they would break. 

The ropes held firm, though, as Loki drooped against the bed and Tom's orgasm finally washed over him. 

When Tom could, he reached up and untied the knot of the first rope, then reached across for the other one. As each knot came undone under his fingers, the glow faded away to nothing. Then, with the ropes gone, Tom ran his hands down Loki's back and around his hips, glancing down to where they were still connected. "Alright?" he asked. 

Loki hummed and reached back to catch one of Tom's wrists. "Come up here." 

" _Now_ you want to cuddle?" Tom teased, because Loki liked to snarl about how cuddling was for women and he wouldn't have it. (Even though he always cuddled against Tom in his sleep.) 

Loki huffed. "Shut up. Get– Ah!" he cried as Tom carefully pulled out. He clenched his fists in the pillow and ducked his head against his chest. 

"Loki?" Tom asked, concerned. 

Loki shook his head and tugged until Tom laid down next to him, absently kicking the container or coconut oil off the bed. "I don't like that," the god whispered, curling against Tom's chest. 

Tom wrapped his arms around him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "What don't you like, darling?" he asked, trying to pretend he wasn't dreading the answer. 

Loki let out a shuddering breath and pressed close to Tom, and his answer was muffled, "You leaving me." 

It took a moment, but Tom got it, and he let out a helpless little laugh and kissed the top of Loki's head again. "I know, Loki. Oh, I _know_."

Loki was silent for a long minute before he looked up, expression twisted with his familiar superiority. "Of course you do. To be empty of _me_ –"

"Shut up and let me enjoy the afterglow a little longer," Tom ordered before leaning down and kissing him as hard as he could at this angle. 

And Loki, little shit he was, laughed against Tom's mouth before kissing him back just as hard.

.


	14. Whipping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Whipping, repentance mentality, minor character death, hurt/comfort, past self-harm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one actually kind of hurt to write.  
> You may want a tissue.

Another plan, purposefully flawed as all the others that Loki had ever concocted, was weaving around him. He laughed as he tossed some ice at Thor, subtly casting a spell to disable the Doombot aiming, unnoticed, at Barton. He hardly wanted the group of heroes dead, for all that his allies might, but they need never know that. And it ever amused Loki to play both sides of the field. 

" _Brother_!" Thor roared, coming in fast and hard. 

Loki cackled and teleported to a roof across the street from the one he'd been standing on, loving the sight of his brother crashing into the concrete. "You've _missed_ Thor!" he called back, using Thor's momentary distraction to glance around the battlefield again. 

He saw it just before Thor jumped from the rubble and came at him again: A child curled under an unsteady overhang, fire blazing around her. None of the Avengers had seen, too busy with the Doombots. Loki was about to teleport when Thor caught him around the chest, crushing the air from his lungs. 

Loki shoved at his massive arm, snarling, "Let – me – go! You – oaf!" 

"Not this time, Loki," Thor intoned, dropping his hammer and pulling something off his belt: manacles. 

" _No_!" Loki shouted, shoving and squirming and staring down at that tiny figure. 

The manacles clipped tight around his wrists, like the tolling of a death knell, as the overhang gave way and fell with a rush of sparks. 

-0-

SHIELD had such a terrible track record for keeping him contained, Loki wondered why they even bothered. Still, a day in their current 'secret' base was a day's free range over their systems while they attempted to get answers out of his laughing clone. (One day, they might figure out that their 'anti-magic' cells didn't actually stop a number of his tricks, such as his shapeshifting, and most of his Jötunn magic. Not that Loki would be telling them; watching them scramble for explanations as to how he got out never grew old.) 

The Avengers had gained a new member, so Loki read up on him. He also made sure they were still looking in entirely the wrong country for him, and made a note to send warning to Amora that she was about three days from being found. (Then again, letting Amora spend a week in a SHIELD cell would amuse him for months, especially since it meant she would owe him for helping her escape.) He slipped in a hint about how to better defeat the Doombots, since Victor had upgraded them again last week, covering most of the weaknesses they'd learned to aim for. 

The last thing he did was look at the death count for the last battle: Five dead, two in critical condition, and thirty suffering from minor wounds. Digging a bit deeper, Loki found the name of the child he'd been unable to save and spent a long few minutes staring at it, burning it into his mind. 

Thomas was waiting for him when he returned to their flat, the human wringing his hands in what had long become a familiar show of concern. He didn't approach, though, and followed at a distance when Loki walked into their bedroom, his armour and leathers giving way to the soft trousers Thomas had bought him, the back of the waist stained with rust-coloured blotches of old blood. 

"One of the two in critical condition died about thirty minutes ago," Thomas said softly as Loki stopped in front of the magically strengthened rack attached to one wall of their bedroom. "The other one should make a full recovery." 

Loki swallowed against the ash-like regret in his mouth. "Seven strikes," he ordered, his voice steady only through the force of his will. 

"There were only six–"

" _Seven_ strikes," Loki repeated. 

Thomas was silent for a moment, then he moved closer, pulling out the whip from the drawer it was kept in. "Okay," he said. 

The whip cracked, loud in the silence of their home, and a line of agony flared along Loki's back, from his right shoulder nearly to his left hip. He ground his teeth against the pain, clenching his hands as tight as he could against the rack. 

"One," Thomas intoned, voice completely devoid of inflection. 

The second strike crossed the first, going from left shoulder to right hip. The third and fourth strikes ran parallel to the first two. When the fifth landed perfectly between the first and third strikes, Loki realised his cheeks were wet, and he ducked his head with shame. The sixth was a little off-centre, landing too close to the fourth strike, and Loki whimpered. 

There was a pause following the sixth, and just as Loki was preparing to snarl an order for his lover to do it, the whip landed, hard and unforgiving, directly along his spine. The snarl turned into a cry of pain, and Loki couldn't stop himself from slumping against the rack as Thomas intoned, "Seven," behind him. 

Loki stayed there for a moment, hiding his weakness against the bars. Thomas didn't move behind him, knew better after so many – _too_ many – of these events. 

In the beginning, Thomas had been confused, hadn't understood why Loki asked him to _whip_ him, and Loki could hardly explain, but Thomas also knew the god was hard to damage, so he'd agreed. 

And then he'd found out that Loki had bound the whip with magic and steel meant to bite into his flesh. The human had been _furious_ and refused to whip Loki again. 

Until he'd found Loki cutting his penance into his chest with one of his daggers, so much deeper than the bite of a whip, and too close to his heart for the human's comfort. Thomas had agreed to land the lashes, then, trading it for Loki's oath that he wouldn't turn one of his daggers on himself again. 

The human had also put forth one other condition: Once Loki had received his lashes and pushed away from the rack, Thomas could take care of him _his_ way. 

Loki took a great, gasping breath, then finally pushed himself away from the rack, stumbling from the expected flare of pain down his back at the movement. 

Thomas was at his side in a heartbeat, the whip fallen to the floor. Gentle hands cupped Loki's face, thumbs rubbing along the trail of tears. "Hey, beautiful," the mortal whispered, eyes bright with concern and second-hand pain. "Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" 

"Yeah," Loki croaked, and let Thomas lead him to the bathroom. 

There, Thomas sat him down and carefully cleaned along the wounds on his back, lips pressing against the broken skin as Loki's breath hitched and he huddled against his knees as tight as he could. When everything was cleaned and kissed, Thomas covered the wounds with the sticking gauze he'd found to keep them covered and clean; the magic in the whip kept the wounds from healing as quickly as Loki normally did, and while _he_ didn't care if they got infected – it would only be right, truly – he'd learned there were some things not worth butting heads with Thomas over. 

With his wounds seen to, Thomas led Loki out to the kitchen, where he served up some soup and toast and scooted their chairs together to eat, arms bumping and legs pressed tight together from the knee down. 

Last was to the bedroom, on their sides and facing each other on the bed. Thomas cupped Loki's cheek with one hand, foreheads pressing together, while his other hand pushed down Loki's trousers and took his cock in hand. 

"I love you," Thomas whispered, giving a slow, careful stroke. 

Loki whimpered and closed his eyes, pressing his nose tight against Thomas', as he began to respond to his lover's gentle touch. 

"You're beautiful," Thomas continued. "Always so beautiful. Even while terrorising the Avengers, even like this, here, now." 

Loki shuddered and pushed past the hand on his cheek to cover Thomas' mouth with his own, silencing his honeyed words. So cruel and wonderful at the same time, his Thomas. 

Thomas didn't pull away to keep speaking, but he did use the hand on Loki's cheek to direct him to be more gentle, careful and kind; everything that Thomas always was. And Loki could never decide if he hated or loved the human for it. 

Thomas refused to let Loki rush either the kiss, or the slow hand on his cock, though he'd tightened his fist enough that Loki began to feel the hum of pleasure build. 

"I saw you," Thomas said when Loki finally let him speak again, breathless from the slow burn of pleasure. "No one else did – they never do – but I saw you take out that Doombot before it could use it's canon on Iron Man. And I saw that one fall just before reaching Hawkeye. And that rubble that almost hit Spider-Man–"

"Stop," Loki pleaded, fisting one hand in the fabric of Thomas' shirt, directly over the mortal's heart. 

"And that dagger you threw, the one that got Thor to dodge the falling Doombot, I saw that, too." 

Loki curled forward, pushing under Thomas' chin and pressing the crown of his head against the human's collarbone. A sob was caught in his throat, and he shook from the mix of pending orgasm and suppressed sobs. 

"You're not a monster, Loki." 

" _Please_ ," Loki whispered, knowing it would be too quiet for Thomas to hear. 

"You don't deserve this," Thomas breathed, hand brushing through Loki's hair to cup the back of his neck, directly over the top of the gauze covering the centre lash. 

Loki closed his eyes against tears. 

"I love you, Loki," Thomas said again. 

Like a trigger, Loki came with a sob, body spasming with his orgasm and the tears he couldn't hold back any more. 

"I've got you," Thomas whispered against Loki's hair, holding the god with all the love and tenderness he didn't deserve. "I'm here, it's okay. I love you." 

Loki curled tighter against his human to sob away the echoes of pain, the lives he couldn't save.

.


	15. Dress Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Semi-public handjob, Loki is a little shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can probably guess where this came from. XD
> 
> Posted super early because I'm off to go see _Frozen_. Again. (Shut up. It's a brilliant film.)

Tom flinched at the sudden feeling of hands on his shoulders; he'd thought the camera people were at the far end of the hall, not right be–

"No more bodies for you?" a familiar voice breathed against his ear. 

Tom relaxed for a brief second before recalling they weren't the only people in the hallway, and explaining this particular man was not an adventure he was keen to embark upon while cameras were nearby. " _Loki_ ," he hissed. 

Loki chuckled and reached around to gently slot the moustache back into place, causing Tom to frown down at where he'd been holding the bloody thing against the front edge of his wheelchair's wheel. Damn magic. "I cannot bear to leave you to suffer after such a line, my Thomas." 

"You are being deliberately obtu– Ah!" Tom arched as hands slid down his chest, radiating cold through the thin fabric of the shirt he wore for the part. His nametag vanished before Loki's fingers – surprisingly pink, given the chill – could catch on it. 

"Are you calling me names again?" Loki wondered, voice practically _dripping_ with amusement. (Loki got the strangest kick out of Tom talking back to him. Having observed Thor attempt the same and being made to leave a Thor-shaped hole in the nearest wall, Tom suspected it was something Loki only let _him_ get away with.) 

"I am in the middle of a _skit_ ," Tom insisted, dropping the baseball cap so he could grab both of Loki's wrists in an attempt to still their descent. "If someone _sees_ yo–"

"Your faith in me is inspiring," Loki murmured before one of his wrists twisted in Tom's grip. 

Tom choked back a shout as his trousers were suddenly gone. The fabric of the wheelchair was warm from his own body heat, but the prop gun was a shock of cold against his right hip. "Lo–" he started, tightening his grip on the god's wrists. 

"Hey, Tom?" Josh called. "That was amaz– Hey, where'd he go?" 

Tom let his grip on Loki loosen as the camera men gave an uncertain reply. "I hate you," he informed the god. 

"Of course you do," Loki purred as his hands finished their path down Tom's front. One braced against his hip, holding him down, while the other wrapped around his cock, which was well-trained to perk up the moment it heard Loki's voice. (Dammit.) "Tell me about this wife." 

Tom pressed his head back against Loki's shoulder, letting the long black hair tickle his face. "Wife?" he repeated, confused. Loki knew he wasn't married. (Hell, he couldn't even manage a proper relationship beyond Loki's surprise visits, since the god was _quite_ the jealous lover.) 

Loki chuckled. "Yes, Steve. Your _wife_."

Tom groaned. Oh, he should have known Loki was going to continue the skit as soon as he'd returned the moustache. He floundered for a moment, trying to think of a woman in his life he could claim as a wife without Loki turning into a jealous fuck if Tom ever went to an event with them. 

Like a bolt of lightning, it came to him. 

"She has the most gorgeous black hair," he whispered into Loki's hair. "She's absolutely insatiable, and has a body to _die_ for." 

Loki breathed out a growl and tightened his hand around Tom's cock. When Tom tried to arch up, gasping in surprise at the much-needed tightness, the god increased the pressure on his hip. "Paralysed, Thomas," he reminded the actor before nipping his jaw. "Tell me more of this wife." 

"She has te-rrible timing. Or ama–" He grabbed Loki's arm as the god gave a particularly violent twist of his wrist. Oh _God_ , Loki was going to kill him one of these days. 

" _Continue_ ," Loki ordered. And it was only because Tom knew him as well as he did, that he heard the signs that Loki was done with this game. He wouldn't stop before Tom did – his pride wouldn't let him concede defeat to _anyone_ – and he would never demand Tom be the one to quit. Instead, he would get more and more irritated, until his opponent finally gave in, having essentially won, and Loki would respond by doing something terrible as recompense. 

(Tom had watching this particular dance play out between Thor and Loki far too many times; for all their centuries together, Thor had no skill in reading Loki's mood, and Loki was ever unwilling to forgive Thor his minor victories.) 

Tom, thankfully, was not the Thunderer, and felt no shame in unveiling his play: "And you know," he whispered against Loki's jaw, "her eyes are the most _brilliant_ green. When she uses her magic, they practically _glow_."

Loki breathed out a laugh. "Clever little mortal," he whispered before magic danced over Tom's skin, lighting his every nerve with pleasure so intense, his vision whited out for a moment. 

"Tom?" 

He blinked to find Josh staring down at him, his producer hovering behind him with his face twisted with concern. A quick glance down showed his trousers had been returned, and it appeared he was beyond the doors he'd never been expected to go through. He glanced back up at Josh and smiled. "Sorry, man. Must have zoned out. Got lost in the character." 

Josh's face broke out in a wide grin. "It was _awesome_. You should really come see the raw." 

"Absolutely!" Tom agreed, pushing up from the chair. The world tilted for a moment before Josh caught his arm. 

"You okay, Tom?" 

Tom shook his head. "Stood up too fast. Come on, let's see the raw video. I'm _fine_ ," he added when Josh didn't immediately stop watching him with concern. 

"Okay..." 

As they returned to the hallway the video crew was in, Tom swore he saw Loki standing in a shadowy corner, eyes glinting green and lips turned up with a smug grin as he licked his fingers. 

Damn god.

.


	16. In a Public Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Public sex, Loki is a little shit, rimming, voyeuristic recording

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thoughts about doing this in a public park or something, but I'd like to think that Tom would be able to draw the line with Loki _somewhere_. (I may be fooling myself.) XD

Tom was _pretty_ sure he remembered swearing to himself, after the janitor closet incident, that he wouldn't let Loki talk him into sex outside their flat or hotel room again. And he knew he'd refused Loki at least three times since. 

Which begged the question: What in fuck's name was he doing in the middle of the empty set in nothing but a t-shirt, bowed over the back of a chair that Loki had dragged over for him, legs spread for the god whose tongue was currently licking up his perineum from his scrotum to the twitching muscle of his anus. 

Tom whimpered, fists clenching against the seat of the chair, and once again wished Loki had brought over a chair with a hole in the back, so he might actually have a chance of knowing what the god was intending to do next. 

The god's tongue moved back down, and Tom had to widen his stance even further to make room for Loki's head so the god could mouth at his scrotum. 

"Loki," Tom gasped, flexing his fingers against the seat beneath him, "Loki, _please_."

Loki's cool mouth moved away and he asked, "Are you still concerned that someone will come, Thomas?" 

Tom shuddered, just such an event playing out in his mind. "Yes," he breathed. 

Loki's mouth returned to his scrotum and Tom whined at the brief chill. And then something – a finger, Tom guessed through the pleasure – pressed hard against his perineum, stimulating his prostate in a most delicious way. 

"Still concerned?" Loki wondered, amusement in his tone. 

Tom shook his head hard enough that his whole body shook, cock hitting against the back of the chair in a manner that was edging closer to pain than pleasure. It almost woke him enough from his haze to remind him what he had to be concerned about, but then a hand damp with spit or magic – it was hard to tell, sometimes – wrapped around his cock and pumped it once, twice, then let go as Loki's tongue pressed past Tom's sphincter. 

Cool, wet pressure, undulating against the muscles of his anus; Tom didn't think he'd ever quite get used to the sensation, but it wasn't unpleasant, and he knew Loki loved preparing him this way, when they both weren't too desperate for it. 

The icy sensation of whatever magic Loki used to provide lube and properly stretch Tom spread through him, cooling the warm burn of arousal enough that Tom once again remembered his fears about the director or a fellow actor walking on to set and–

"Jævla flaks," Loki muttered, his native language always so musical, the way it dropped from his tongue. A hand wrapped around Tom's cock again, gentle as Loki brought him back under the haze of pleasure which kept him from worrying. The hand vanished and Loki moved behind him, air shifting against Tom's bare arse. 

And then Loki was there again, one hand steady against Tom's hip as his cock rubbed between his arse cheeks, purposefully bumping over his opened hole, but not quite going in. 

" _Lo_ ki," Tom whined, failing miserably at sounding demanding. He often did when Loki started teasing him. 

Loki breathed out a laugh against the middle of Tom's back – the god had leaned over? When? Why? – then easily slid in. The magic that had been holding Tom open ceased, and they both groaned at the completed connection. 

One of Loki's arms slipped around Tom's chest and drew him up so they were both standing, Tom's back flush against Loki's chest. "You feel _glorious_ ," Loki murmured against Tom's ear, tongue flicking out against the shell. "So tight and _warm_." His hand slid up Tom's chest and throat to his chin, which he used to turn Tom's head so they could lock lips. 

Tom whimpered into Loki's mouth as the god slowly drew out of him, drawing it out because he knew Tom wanted it _fast_ , and Loki had long ago proven that he would never do what Tom wanted, unless he was apologising for something else. 

Slow push back in, brushing over Tom's prostate almost too carefully to stimulate it. Tom reached back with both hands to grab at Loki's hips, digging his nails into the skin he found and pulling _hard_. Not that he was strong enough to make the god move. 

Loki chuckled and licked over Tom's lips before using the hand on his chin to tilt the actor's head away again so he could nibble along Tom's jaw. "Impatient," he murmured against Tom's skin. 

"Impatient for _you_ ," Tom agreed, voice stronger than he'd expected. "I need you to fuck me so hard, every _step_ reminds me of you. And I'll walk through here tomorrow, blushing like a fucking _virgi_ –"

"You manipulative little bastard," Loki snarled, but there was approval in his tone as he braced both hands on Tom's hips, grip tight enough that there would be bruises for _days_.

Tom took a moment to grin at his victory, glancing up towards the unmanned camera directly in front of them. 

The camera that was _on_.

"Oh my fucking–" Tom cut himself off with a shout as Loki slammed into him, hard and fast and so strong, no human could ever match him. Tom felt rather like he was about to split into two, but it was a sensation that he'd become plenty used to over the course of their relationship, and he revelled in it now, completely forgetting what he'd been about to yell at Loki for. 

He didn't remember again until he had sagged back against the god, hoping Loki wasn't too tired from his own orgasm to hold them both up. The god held steady under the added weight, and Tom smiled for a moment before his eyes caught, again, on the active camera. 

The smile froze on his face and he carefully wrapped his hands around the wrists that were curled over his abdomen. "Loki," he said. 

Loki tensed behind him. "Thomas," he said, voice too casual. 

"Why is that camera recording us?" 

Loki was silent. 

" _Loki_."

"It is, perhaps, best for all involved if you–"

" 'All'," Tom repeated, deadpan, and tightened his fingers around Loki's wrists. "Loki, darling, there's not someone _else_ involved in this little daydream of yours to have me on the set of one of my films, is there?" 

"Of course not, Thomas," Loki lied. 

"Who?" 

"As I just said–"

" _Lied_."

Loki was silent for a moment, then he admitted, "Robert." 

"I'll _kill_ him," Tom snarled, and it was Loki holding him, now. 

The god licked the shell of his ear and breathed, "Why not simply return the favour?" 

Tom stilled, mind racing for ideas for how to get his fellow actor back for the minor embarrassment. "And you?" he wondered, voice turned sweet in a way that Loki knew meant he was in trouble. 

The god tensed behind him. "Me?" 

"You." 

Loki nose against Tom's hair. "If you can," he allowed. 

Tom would have to get some help to get his lover back, but that had been the promise for a lack of retaliation that he'd been looking for, so he dropped the subject. "And how do you suggest getting him back?" 

"I might have a couple ideas," Loki murmured, voice heavy with mischief, and Tom smirked at the camera in a way that mirrored his lover's most terrifying smiles. 

All he had to do, now, was decide if Loki could hand the tape over.

.


	17. Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Non-con/rape, graphic violence, torture (mostly psychological, but some physical and, of course, sexual), rough sex, Loki is a cruel bastard, Loki's personal demons give normal people nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A part of me figured that, since I'd already gone and killed Tom off once this challenge (and I'm making a slave out of him later) I might as well just compound my sins and make the dive for non-con.
> 
> Unlike _Victims_ , this has no eventual happy ending. There are only tears and more tears. (Tom, I am SO SORRY.)

Loki stalked around the mortal, waiting for him to wake. He traced his eyes over familiar facial features – the same ones he saw in every reflection – the faint curl to his pale hair, the fuzz marking around his mouth in a way that Loki had never had. 

There was a fragility to this mirror of Loki, as there was of all mortals. Already, bruises in that shapes of handprints were darkening where Loki had held to manhandle the mortal into the chains hanging from the ceiling. Around his wrists there showed a hint of blood from where steel had bitten far too easily into flesh. 

Loki had worn these same manacles many times, had been handled far more roughly, yet his skin had remained unmarked by such trivial attempts to damage it. Only through true violence could he be made to bleed, and only through magic could such damage be made to remain beyond but scant few minutes. 

Truly, mortals were such frail things. 

The mortal let out a groan, obviously stirring, and Loki stepped around behind him, away from his immediate sight. There was something delicious about causing another to wake, bound and naked, in an empty cell. 

The mortal was still for a long moment, then he shifted, his chains rattling. He looked up to where they'd been attached to the ceiling and gave a weak tug. Blood streaked down his arm, mixing in with his hair. "Hello?" he called, voice shaking. 

Loki stepped forward, then, catching the mortal's curls and yanking them back hard enough to make the mortal cry out. "Greetings, Hiddleston," he breathed against the shell of the mortal's ear as he settled his other hand over his chest, feeling the terrified heart race beneath the fragile skin. 

"Please, whatever you want, you can have it," the mortal babbled, shaking in Loki's grip. "If it's money or recognition or–"

"I have recognition," Loki murmured, forcing the mortal's head against one of his raised arms so he could lick his throat. "And your petty Midgardian coin means nothing." 

The mortal tensed. "I-I don't– W-what do you want?" 

Loki moved his hand up the mortal's chest to wrap around his throat, long nails brushing against his own lips. "I want your truth, Hiddleston." 

"Of course, yes, anything you want," the mortal spoke in a rush, voice a little panicked. 

Loki chuckled, cold and unforgiving as his native realm. "Only fools make such blind promises." He caught the mortal's earlobe and bit down hard enough to break the skin. The mortal whimpered and swallowed a bit desperately against the hand covering his throat. "Are you a fool, Hiddleston?" 

The mortal shuddered. "Anything but my life," he modified. 

Loki smirked against the bleeding earlobe. "Only your life?" he wondered. "So I could take your voice–" he squeezed the throat he held "–or your sight–" he ran his hand forward through the mortal's hair until he could reach two fingers over his forehead and tap them against hurriedly-closed eyelids "–or your hearing?" He licked at the still-welling blood, letting it sit on his tongue for a moment, savouring the taste of terror and weakness. 

"Please," the mortal whispered, and liquid dotted the hand Loki had around his throat, dripping from his chin. 

"I could break your legs," Loki offered. "You would heal, in time, but you would never again be the runner or actor you are now." He moved his mouth down to lick at the sweat dotting the straining muscles of the mortal's shoulders, smiling at the whimper the mortal couldn't suppress as more liquid splattered against the back of Loki's hand. "Perhaps I might take your sanity, so none might know you were damaged, to look at you. And yet..." Loki trailed off, delighting in the sob the mortal tried to muffle. 

"Have you ever been tortured, Hiddleston?" he whispered, moving the hand around the mortal's throat back down to rest over his rapidly beating heart. "Have you ever had your very _self_ stripped from you as your tormentors flayed you alive, or beat you to little more than shattered bones in skin gone black and blue?" 

"P-ple-ase!" the mortal sobbed, straining against the cuffs holding his wrists captive and causing another long dribble of blood to stain his hair. 

"Have you ever been held back and made to watch as your own children were condemned to suffering for all eternity? Held captive and starved for the sin of _siring_ them?" 

"I'm sorry!" the mortal gasped. "I didn't–"

"No," Loki whispered as he drew his hands away from the mortal and stepped around him, "you did none of those things." He smiled, wide and cruel when the blue eyes widened to see him. "Do you understand, yet, your crimes?" 

"Loki," the mortal gasped, and then his tears started falling faster. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for every–"

Loki snarled and grabbed the mortal's throat, choking him to silence. "You are yet blind to your misdeeds," he spat. 

The mortal stared at him, eyes bright with tears and confusion. 

Loki leaned in until their lips were nearly brushing. "To your audience, I am a man broken, in need only of another's kindness. But I am _not that_." He pulled away and stalked back around the mortal, watching the way his form shook as he gasped for air, tears still continuing to mar his cheeks. "I will have your truth, Hiddleston," he spat as he stopped behind the mortal again. "I will stand for no more of your _lies_!"

Loki snapped his fingers, vanishing his leathers, and grabbed the mortal's thighs, opening and raising them so he had easy access to the entrance within. 

"No no please _no_ –" the mortal tried, before ending his plea on a scream as Loki pushed into him, his fragile body tearing to make way. 

"Have you ever been raped, Hiddleston?" Loki breathed against the still bleeding ear. "Taken by a stallion with no concept of kindness? Or perhaps a line of guards with a grudge, given leave to take their petty grievances out on a defenceless prisoner?" 

"I'm s-sor-ry," the mortal gasped as he fell limp in Loki's grip. 

" _I will not have your **regret**!_ " Loki snarled as he shifted his grip and pulled out of the mortal's bloody hole, only to shove right back in twice as hard as his original entrance. 

The mortal just cried as Loki used him, body a dead weight in his hands. Loki didn't speak again, didn't see the point in continuing to use words when it was _actions_ these mortals so treasured. 

The mortal whimpered when Loki at last came within him, then yanked roughly out and dropped his legs uncaringly to the ground. Another snap of Loki's fingers had him cleaned of blood and redressed, then he stalked around to stand in front of the mortal, observing the way he hung limp in the cuffs, blood staining his arm, ear, and throat. He looked utterly defeated, face a mess of tears, blood and semen running freely between his legs. 

Loki leaned in and brushed his lips against the mortal's as he whispered, "Have compassion for me _now_."

Then he turned away and returned the mortal to his realm with a negligent wave of one hand. He would survive, physically – Loki's magic would see to it – but his sanity was a matter for his own strengths. 

Loki didn't much care, either way. His point had been made, and he had a war to return to waging. What matter was a mortal actor but a spot of fun?

..


	18. Bathing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Servitude, blood, aftermath of a battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be shower sex. I _swear_. I have no idea where this shit came from.

As soon as Tom had heard the voices in the corridor – Thor's loud voice always carrying so well, he would never have needed a loudspeaker (not that such existed in Asgard) – he'd scrabbled to prepare the bath. The first thing he'd learnt as Loki's servant – after discovering he hadn't actually _wanted_ a personal servant sharing his quarters – was that his master always wanted a bath after returning from being dragged along on one of his brother's 'adventures'. The second thing he'd learnt had been that Loki preferred his water lukewarm, which made it much easier to have the tub filled by the time the door to the main room crashed open. 

Tom carefully arranged his hands in front of himself and bowed his head before stepping out into the main room. "Welcome home, Master," he murmured. 

Two daggers dropped carelessly to the ground, followed by a blood-streaked vambrace. "Get over here and help me, you useless mortal," Loki snarled as Tom's eyes widened at the red on the fallen armour. 

Tom looked up, then, and stared at the blood marking every part of Loki's clothing that wasn't black. It had splashed across his face and stained his fingers. Loki's right arm was held awkwardly, as though it was wounded in some way, and he was clearly favouring his left side. "You should be in the healing chambers," Tom insisted as he hurried forward to help. 

"Desist with your false concern and do your job in _silence_ for once," Loki snapped. 

Tom bit his tongue against the urge to insist his concern was honest – he'd long learnt that his master, for all that he insisted he could spot every lie spoken in his vicinity, had trouble recognising when people were worried about him. Instead of speaking, he followed the age-old phrase from his home: _Actions speak louder than words._

He catalogued the damage as he helped Loki from his clothing, relieved to see it wasn't as bad as it had looked, with all the blood. There was a large bruise forming just under his ribs on his left side, which Tom knew from experience would be healed by morning, assuming Thor didn't try to drag Loki out to celebrate. (Tom would try to intercept Thor before he could make his demands, because Loki would always agree, no matter how bad off he was.) 

The long cut on the inside of Loki's right arm, starting at his armpit and going nearly to his elbow, was far more concerning. Tom would have to somehow get Loki to let him wrap it while he was in the bath, or it would open within an hour afterwards and he'd be snarly about it all night, yet refuse to let Tom anywhere near it. 

God. What had Tom done in a past life to deserve Loki as his master? 

"Burn that," Loki ordered, pointing back at his clothing as he pushed past Tom and headed for the bath. 

Tom took a moment to see if anything was salvageable – he and Loki were of the same size, and the prince didn't care if Tom took clothing he'd ordered discarded – and decided he could probably clean out most of the blood splattered along the waist of the trousers. So the trousers went to his tiny alcove, while everything else was set next to the little-used fireplace to be burned once Loki turned in for the night. The armour and daggers were set aside for Tom to clean later, then he headed into the bathroom to check on his master. 

Loki has relaxed back in the tub, expression calm for the first time in what had probably been days, knowing how Loki felt about Thor's 'adventures'. His eyes opened lazily as Tom approached. "What?" 

Tom swallowed and picked up the flannel hanging over the side of the tub, holding it up in a silent entreaty. 

Loki sighed and let his eyes fall closed. "Yes, fine. If you must." 

Tom dipped the flannel in the water and started gently cleaning away the blood on his master's face. One of Loki's eyes peeked open and he held up the flannel, showing off the streak of red on it as explanation. 

"That's what that taste was," Loki muttered before his other eye opened and he looked up at Tom's expression. "Oh, don't tell me you're... What is it you mortals call it? 'Sick to your stomach'?" 

Tom shook his head and very quietly replied, "No, Master." 

Loki hummed and closed his eyes again. "No, I suppose you're used to this by now. What's your question?" 

Tom refused to be surprised by Loki's perception, instead enquiring, "Was Prince Thor wounded?" 

Loki glared up at him. "Why the concern for my brother? If you truly detest me so much–"

"Master, please don't misunderstand," Tom hurried to interrupt, familiar with this particular rant. "I only wish to ascertain how much longer it will be before we are assaulted by Prince Thor's bellowing." Insulting Thor was always a good way to raise Loki's spirits, Tom had discovered. (Eventually.) 

Loki snorted. "He wasn't wounded, but Fandral and Volstagg are both in the healing chambers." 

That meant twenty minutes for Thor to change and bathe, another thirty in the healing chambers, joking about close calls and lamenting the feast the two wounded warriors would miss, ten minutes ordering the kitchen servants to prepare said feast, then he would visit Loki. So a little over an hour, with travelling time. 

"I understand, Master," Tom murmured, dipping the flannel in the water. "May I clean your arm, Master?" 

Loki glanced over at the long wound on his inner arm, putting on an expression of false surprise at the sight. "Now how did that happen, I wonder." 

Tom bowed his head. "I could not say, Master. You have far more knowledge of battle than I." 

Loki hummed. "I suppose you'll want to bandage it, next." 

"If Master will permit me to," Tom agreed. 

Loki seemed to consider that for a moment. "Pleasure me," he ordered. "Then you can do whatever you want." 

Tom didn't hesitate, knowing Loki would see it as a slight. He reached through the water, uncaring for his sleeve getting wet, and wrapped his hand around his master's cock. Loki hummed in approval and watched through half-lidded eyes as Tom used six months of experience to bring him to orgasm in a timely manner. 

Loki never gave any indication he enjoyed the handjobs he ordered Tom to give him – Tom honestly believed his master had ordered the first one just to see how Tom would react, then kept doing it just because he could – but he was always far more relaxed and less likely to snap if Tom made a mistake after one. If Tom had ever disliked the practise – and he wasn't sure he could say he did, for all that he'd always believed himself to be heterosexual before he'd been kidnapped to Asgard – he'd quickly come to find the benefits well worth the personal difficulty. 

With Loki's demand seen to, Tom was free to gently clean and wrap Loki's arm. He also took the chance to clean under Loki's fingernails, something the prince wouldn't normally let him get away with, even though Tom _knew_ he hated having dried blood under his nails. (Loki just liked having an excuse to clean out under his nails during conversations that were boring him and flick crud at the speaker's face.) 

Tom had just finished helping Loki out of the tub and was drying him when there came a pounding on the door. 

Tom and Loki both raised their eyebrows in surprise. "He's ahead of schedule," Loki commented, and it was only because Tom was watching for it that he saw the exhaustion in his eyes. "You might as well let him in. I'll be out directly." 

Tom inclined his head. "Yes, Master," he murmured before leaving for the main room. 

It was Thor, of course, at the door. He frowned to see Tom and demanded, "Is my brother unwell?" 

Tom blinked. "Master is changing." 

Thor's shoulders relaxed marginally and he lowered his voice to what a normal person would consider an indoor voice, but which was practically a whisper for him, "Tell me truly, was he hurt?" 

Tom paused for a moment, debating whether he should speak the truth or not. Loki hadn't told him he _couldn't_ tell Thor he'd been hurt, though, so he nodded. 

Thor's brows furrowed. "Badly?" 

Tom shrugged. "He just needs a proper night's sleep in a real bed, I think." 

Thor nodded. "I see." 

"Mortal," Loki called, "I thought I told you to let him in, not stand at the door like a couple of gossiping women." 

Thor looked, for a moment, like he might rise to the bait and start insulting Loki back, but then he met Tom's wide, pleading eyes and sighed. "I only came to tell you our feast isn't being held until tomorrow eve," he called around Tom. "Volstagg gave such a convincing argument for why he needed to be there–"

"If you have nothing of further interest to impart, do cease yelling in my servant's face and go torment your own," Loki snapped. 

Thor rolled his eyes. "Good luck with him," he said to Tom, then turned and left. 

Tom closed the door and turned to watch Loki watch him. "What were you discussing before I interrupted?" 

Tom carefully entwined his hands in front of him. "Nothing, Master." 

"You're lying." 

Tom met his gaze. "I am." 

Loki's mouth twitched with a smile and he turned away. "Call for something light, then bring me the tome on my desk." 

"Yes, Master." 

"And if my armour isn't cleaned by morning, I'll have you flogged." 

Loki had never once followed through on that particular threat, but Tom knew better than to point that out. "Of course, Master." 

Loki hummed to himself as he left the main room. 

_In all,_ Tom considered as he opened the door to find another servant to run Loki's meal request down to the kitchens, _not a bad evening._

.


	19. Outdoors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Outdoor sex, Jötunn!Loki, discussion of alien beliefs, technically an AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone remember that time Tom mentioned something about drinking vodka in a hot tub?  
> Yeah. Bastard.
> 
> I don't know how likely they would be to actually have a hot tub on a deck outside in Iceland in October, but since it had to be outside...they do now? *shifty*

Tom sighed as he relaxed back against the side of the hot tub. His shoulders and head felt a little cold, in spite of the steam from the water, but he was sure that would change after a few sips of his vodka tonic. There was absolutely _nothing_ better than relaxing in an abandoned hot tub on the deck with a bit of Reyka so he could see the Northern Lights. 

"You'll catch your death," a familiar voice muttered before a hand even colder than the wind curled against his nape. 

Tom sighed and leaned into the touch, rethinking his earlier thought about there being nothing better; the addition of his oft absent lover was a sure way to make any moment a thousand times better. "Good evening, darling," he murmured, reaching for his drink. 

Loki huffed, breath cold against Tom's scalp through his short-cut hair. "It is a wonder to me, some days, that you have lived as long as you have. Get out before you freeze." 

Tom shook his head and motioned up towards where the rainbow of lights was just beginning to appear in the sky. "Look." 

Loki let out a startled breath and the chill at Tom's nape vanished. He had barely ten seconds to mourn the loss before the hot water was displaced by another body. He glanced over to find Loki walking towards him, bottom half bleeding into the pale pink Tom was more used to seeing on his fellow humans, top half the shade of a clear winter's sky. The familiar loincloth had vanished, leaving Loki naked, save for the glimmer of gold jewellery covering enough of him, he could almost be considered decent without the loincloth. 

"I wasn't aware this sight could be found in your Realm," Loki murmured as he sank down into the water at Tom's side, pink skin chasing away the expanse of blue. 

"We call them the aurora borealis; the Northern Lights," Tom explained as he leaned against Loki's side. Loki easily shifted Tom in the water, pulling him into his lap. "They're in the south, too." 

"In Jötunheimr, they only appear at the height of summer, when the sun has fallen away for a few hours," Loki replied, fingers tracing patterns against Tom's stomach. (Tom wasn't surprised in the least to discover the shorts he'd worn out to the patio had vanished.) 

"They're constant, here," Tom offered, and Loki let out a quiet noise that Tom recognised as being one of want. "What do you call them?" he asked, to distract Loki from whatever devastation his mind was concocting. 

"Sál Heimsins. 'The Soul of the World'," Loki translated. 

That was far too poetic for what Tom knew of Loki's people. "Where did you steal that name from?" 

Loki chuckled, low and cool against Tom's ear. "Some visiting party of diplomats, I've little doubt. The origins are lost to us. Most likely, they were simply called 'ljósin í himninum', the lights in the sky." 

Tom laughed. "I like Soul of the World better." 

"You would," Loki agreed drily. He pressed a kiss to the side of Tom's neck, then enquired, " 'Aurora borealis'. They are pretty words, are they not?" 

"You're getting better," Tom replied, ever impressed by how Loki assimilated new languages. "And, yes, they are. Uhm, it's named after a couple of gods. The...Roman, I think? Well, goddess of the dawn, Aurora, and the name for the northern wind, Boreal– No, wait, not conjugated. Uhm. Boreas, probably." 

"You don't even know the names of your own gods," Loki teased before slowly pulling Tom back against him and onto–

Tom moaned as he felt himself being breeched and slowly filled, the lack of pain very much magical. "Oh, God," he breathed, dropping his head back against Loki's shoulder and staring up at the shift of green lights in the sky. "Fuck, Loki, you–" He cut himself off with a gasp as a hand wrapped around him. 

"Hush, mine Thomas," Loki murmured against the shell of his ear as he slowly moved Tom around the cock impaling him, the water rippling gently around them. "This is a sacred time, when the Sál Heimsins is visible. It is to be celebrated in a muted manner, lest we damage it with our very voices." 

Tom couldn't stop a quiet whine, in love with the way Loki let slip hints of his culture. _God_ , what he wouldn't give to play a Loki who was so at peace with his true nature. His lover was nothing like the broken man Tom played on film, and he loved Loki all the more for his strength. (One day, he might just discover why this Loki hunted him down and staked his claim, but it hardly mattered, in truth.) 

"I should like to have you in Jötunheimr like this," Loki breathed. "Stretched out under the greens and blues of our sky, surrounded by the purest snow..." 

Tom could see it, could see Loki hovering over him, the Jötunheimr Lights – the soul of his world – a halo around him as he pressed in to Tom, claiming him, marking him forever as the possession of Jötunheimr's king. And, oh, how desperately Tom wanted that vision to be a reality. 

"She would bless you," Loki whispered, face turning to hide in Tom's curls. 

Tom didn't begin to understand what that meant, but a part of him – the part that collected Loki's little hints of care and wrapped them around his heart during his long absences – understood the importance of it. It meant something, _Tom_ meant something, and he came, a word breathed silently into the keeping of the green glinting above them. It might have been Loki's name, it might have been a declaration of love. 

Either way, it meant the same, and he prayed for the day this truth didn't hang in silence and cryptic promises between them.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A thousand thanks to Geirhildur for correcting a translation. :D


	20. Bloodplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Vampire!Tom, some rough handling, moral ambiguity, Loki does what he wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Bri gave me a prompt for Loki (or Tom, she wasn't picky) to be a vampire, with Tom (Loki) being human. And lots and lots of porn. (I have written in my notebook: _'Blood + smut + blood + moar smut!'_ ) It fit in well with this challenge. 
> 
> The original idea I had for this was giving me fits, so this is take two. Hopefully with more blood and smut (but certainly suffering from a little more plot than intended. Whoops ^.^")

The day that Tom had met Loki was a cold one. He was just returning home from a lunch date with his fiancée, walking along the riverside and watching people pass him in their finery on his side. Tried not to look at where the poor huddled in dark corners and along the other side of the river. 

As time passed, he forgot the face of his fiancée, the food they had, the name of the restaurant. He forgot how sweet the air had been in those days, how quiet the world was without the motors of the industrial revolution. 

What he never forgot was the way green eyes burned as they stared out at him from the steadily moving crowd. How that long-fingered hand caught his wrist and drew him away to a shadowy alley. How hard and unforgiving that mouth was as the man's body pushed him back against the stone wall, devouring his _soul_ , along with his breath. How impossibly glorious it was for his finery to be pulled away and those long fingers trace over bare skin. 

Tom would never forget the sweet nothings that honeyed voice breathed into his ear as fingers breeched him, stretched him for something much larger with such care, such gentleness... 

Names and faces faded away to the passage of time, but Tom never forgot dalliances in dark alleys, forbidden and glorious. He never forgot those bright green eyes, never stopped looking for them, even long after he knew that man would be dead. 

-0-

The modern era was in equal parts a wonder and a curse, so far as Tom was concerned. On one hand, things were actually happening during the night; shops and pubs were open while the sun was vanished, so Tom didn't have those hours before dawn when he was left alone to walk the dark streets of whatever unfortunate city he was staying in. He could spend the darkest hours conversing with humans in the same city or, as technology evolved more and more, with people on the other side of the world as they were living in the sunlight. 

On the other hand, it was much harder to get away with murder when there were cameras everywhere, and forensic evidence could trace him from country-to-country. Record-keeping, too, made it harder for him to travel across boarders and bodies of water without notice. 

He'd stayed in Europe for almost two centuries before travelling to the Americas, the unexplored land and poor records a temptation too great for him to pass up. By the time he'd had thought to return to England at last, travel was more difficult than he had the head for, so he resigned himself to fitting in among the Americans. (At least it was a large country to explore.) 

He'd heard about the invasion in New York, of course. The entire _world_ had heard about it, and God alone knew how many of them cared enough to have an opinion. (Tom, familiar with humanity as he was, would bet good money on _most_ people having an opinion. And the majority of them were only going to be positive for the moment.) 

Tom hadn't made a conscious decision to go to New York, but that's still where he ended up. (The danger of getting on a train or bus and being unable to get off until the sun went down. At least he didn't need to sleep during the day in a box, so long as he stayed as much in darkness as he could, and covered himself to keep the sunlight off his skin.) 

He wandered the city streets, making note of the various repairs on-going, and trying to decide on the best place to hide during the day. 

Having found an undisturbed, run down building that would serve, he turned his attention to finding some easy prey. To avoid the human law, he'd learned to take two or three victims, trusting in his ever-expanding supernatural abilities to keep them from thinking his presence any more than a vague dream or the illusion of too much drink. 

He'd finished with one young woman and was looking for another mortal, when a voice breathed out, " _Thomas_?" behind him. 

Tom had given up his full name with his humanity, but a part of him would always react to it. Rather than brush off the way his shoulders had tensed, he gave a casual glance over his shoulder, only to freeze. 

Green eyes, dulled by time, but still that same unforgettable shade, were watching him from just out of arm's reach. "In the Lord's name... _Lo_ '?" 

He couldn't say where the name had come from, for he'd long thought his secretive lover's name forgotten to the ages. Had given up recalling the minor details after he knew the man must be dead, for all that he'd been unable to forget much else. 

Lo – _Loki_ , Tom recalled in full; he'd known it had ties to one of the pagan mythologies – took two quick steps forward and reached up, as though intending to touch Tom's face, but stopping at the last moment, uncertainty brightening his eyes. 

Tom reached up and caught the hand with his, pressing it against his own cheek. Real. Solid. Warm, human skin bringing life back into Tom's dead tissues. He smiled. "Hello, lover." 

Loki snatched his hand back, his gorgeous eyes darkening with suspicion and something Tom though might have been fear. "Away, spectre!" he snarled. "You tell the AllFather I've no interest in these games of his. I'll not be won over by the dead!" 

Tom frowned. "Loki, what do you think I have to do with some..." He shook his head. "Who or what is this 'AllFather'?" The title sounded familiar, like something Tom had studied centuries ago in a moment's curiosity, then forgotten because it hadn't held his interest. 

That seemed to bring Loki up short and he turned sharp eyes on Tom for a long moment before letting out a furious noise and turning away. "I'll neither be won over by your _lies_."

Tom raised an eyebrow at that. "What part of my confusion is a lie?" he enquired. Loki had always been particularly skilled at sussing out Tom's most minute lies. He had a vague recollection of being constantly irritated by his inability to hide things from his lover of back alleys. One would think, given the setting of their trysts, discussion would have been the last thing on either of their minds, but Loki had never been one for the norm. (It was a predilection Tom had taken upon himself to combat the tediousness of immortality.) 

Loki turned and pointed an angry finger at Tom. "Your accent is wrong! Ha!" 

Before Tom could figure out a proper response to that, a figure dropped to the ground next to Loki. He got an impression of blond hair, a flowing red cape, and a face like a thunderstorm, before the figure wrapped a hand around Loki's throat with an angry growl. 

It was the fear flashing across Loki's face that brought Tom to act, more than the physical threat; just because he _could_ take down a human with barely a thought, didn't mean he liked to react that way. In this instance, though, he darted forward and pulled Loki behind him, baring his fangs at the interloper. "Fuck off," he snarled. 

The blond's eyes widened and he took a surprised step backwards. "What is–?" He shook his head and reaffirmed his stance, raising a hammer Tom hadn't noticed him holding previously up to chest-height between them. "Move, mortal. This is not your concern." 

"I'm making it my concern," Tom shot back, brushing off the mortal comment. While it wasn't the sort of response he'd ever got after showing off his fangs, he'd long learned that underestimation was his greatest ally. (And if this man thought enough of himself to use 'mortal' for Tom, then he _wanted_ to be underestimated.) 

"An unwise choice," the blond assured him before swinging his hammer. 

Barely pausing long enough to make sure he had a secure grip on Loki, Tom jumped out of range, back towards the brick wall he knew was behind him. "Whatever trick you used to employ to keep us from sight, would be helpful now," he murmured to his passenger before pushing off the wall to catch a window ledge in easy – for him – reach. 

"I no longer possess that ability," Loki whispered, face hid against Tom's neck, arms clinging tight around his chest. 

Tom frowned, but left the subject as he reached the lowest roof of the surrounding buildings and started running across it. 

"He can fly," Loki warned just before the roof shook beneath Tom's feet. 

"Of course he can," Tom muttered, casting his gaze around for a quick escape. "Hold on," he warned before jumping off the edge of the roof. He caught a flagpole with his free hand and swung around it once before letting go at the perfect position to allow him to reach the railing of a fire escape. He dropped from there, ignoring the shock as he hit the ground, and ducked back into a handy shadow. He couldn't, necessarily, wrap the darkness around them protectively, but he knew from experience that he was about twelve times harder to spot while hiding in a shadow. 

The blond dropped heavily to the street a few feet from the shadows Tom and Loki hid in. He turned in a slow circle, eyes narrowed at every possible hiding place, though they passed right over his prey. After taking a second look around, he let out an angry sound and swung his hammer towards the sky, sending himself flying up through the air. 

"I need one of those," Tom decided a bit absently. 

Fingers brushed against Tom's lips before pressing against one sharpened incisor. He glanced over at Loki and found the green eyes transfixed by his changed teeth. He forced himself to calm, making them recede, and Loki's eyes widened before he met Tom's gaze. "What magic is this?" 

Tom shrugged and loosened his grip on Loki, only just then realising how tightly he was still holding the other. "I'm a vampire." 

Comprehension didn't dawn. "That is not a term I'm familiar with," Loki allowed after a moment. 

Tom blinked. "It's–" How did one _not_ hear about vampires? "Uhm, I drink blood? I'm immortal. Mostly." 

And there was the understanding, followed by Loki leaning forward and taking a deep breath, which was...new. "You don't smell as a draugr." 

"That is not a term I'm familiar with," Tom countered, stealing Loki's own words. 

The green eyes brightened with amusement. "It's my tongue. I believe your people call it 'Old Norse'." 

Tom's eyes went wide at the suggestion that Loki was... _ancient_. Old Norse hadn't been spoken on Earth for longer than Tom had been alive. 

Loki's fingers traced Tom's cheekbone. "But you are not like those creatures of our horror stories. They are attached to their own graves, and smell of death. You are something...other." 

Tom let that sink in, then licked his lips and agreed, "Vampire. Your drag– No, dra– Say it for me again?" 

"Draugr," Loki repeated with surprising patience, given all Tom recalled of him. 

"Draugr," Tom murmured against the fingers that were now tracing over his lips. "Do your draugrs–"

"Draugar," Loki corrected. In response to the eyebrow Tom raised, he explained, "The plural, Thomas." 

"Of course," Tom allowed. "Do they burn in sunlight?" 

It took Loki a moment, but then he was looking towards the sky. "Do you? Have we need to–"

Tom chuckled and shook his head. "I've another three hours 'til dawn. But, yes, I do burn in the sunlight." 

Loki looked back at Tom, brow furrowed. "Were I not–" He scoffed and waved his hand at the few people moving along the street beyond the shadows they were hiding in. "Were I as I was, I would do something about that." 

Tom frowned and cupped Loki's cheek. "What's happened, Lo'? How are you still alive? I had thought–"

"Me dead?" Loki guessed, stepping back from Tom's grasp. "That appears to be a thought we shared." He wrapped his arms around himself and looked up towards the sky. "I assume you are aware of the correlation between my name and the divine, by now." 

"Loki was a god of Norse myths," Tom agreed carefully. 

Loki met his gaze. "I am." Then his expression fell. " _Was_." He held out one hand to stare at it, giving a shaky laugh. "What irony is this, my Thomas, that in the moment you are discovered to share my lifespan, I am bereft of it?" 

Tom stepped forward and caught Loki's hand between his, bringing it up to kiss. "What happened, Loki?" he asked, keeping his voice gentle. 

Loki stared at him for a long moment before replying, "I was given chance to choose between my freedom and the lives of mortals. I chose my freedom." 

Having already spent enough of the evening seeing the repairs to the city, it wasn't hard for Tom to connect the dots: "You were the one who attacked New York." 

Loki's face split with a crazed smile. "So I am." He tried to tug his hand from Tom's grasp, but the vampire wouldn't let go. " _Thomas_ ," he warned. 

Tom shook his head. "So someone – this AllFather you mentioned earlier? – punished you with mortality. Where does the blond man come into this? The one with the hammer." 

Loki frowned. "That is Thor, my brother. He is charged with keeping an eye on me." He snorted. "The AllFather intended him to keep me from killing anyone else, I should think." 

"I'd be more concerned with someone attempting to kill _you_ , personally," Tom informed him. 

Loki shot him a disbelieving look. "Perhaps you misunderstood me, Thomas. I chose my own life over the _entirety_ of humanity. Of _your kind_."

Tom pressed his mouth into a thin line and shook his head. " 'My kind'," he repeated before snorting and leaning forward to press his forehead against Loki's, one hand coming up to keep the former god's head in place. "I haven't been human in almost five hundred years. They are no more my kind than I am akin to an ape." He sighed and closed his eyes. "I feed on blood, on _life_ , Loki. Every time I hunger, I am faced with the choice between taking a life, and walking away hungry. Were it not so hard to get away with murder, I would kill far more often than I do." 

Loki shuddered and pressed closer to Tom, his head losing contact with Tom's to bury against his shoulder. Tom wrapped his arms around the former god and held him tight, offering all the comfort Loki was willing to accept. Far more than he would have expected, in truth, and Tom couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since someone was willing to look past his sins and accept them as a fact of life. 

It took Tom an embarrassing amount of time to realise Loki had fallen asleep against him. He let out a quiet chuckle and gently picked the former god up bridal style. "Let's see about that derelict building, then," he murmured to himself before setting off. 

-0-

Tom came awake with a start, aware of something moving in his personal space. He didn't react violently – a long-trained sixth sense assured him he was in no danger – but rather cast out his senses. 

"Loki," he breathed upon recognising the person reaching for his face. He caught the hand and brought it to his lips before finally opening his eyes. "Good morning," he offered to the sharp green eyes watching him, lit by the lantern he'd set up before sleeping, since he didn't know how Loki would react to waking in complete darkness. 

Loki pulled his hand from Tom's grip and dropped it into his lap. "You said sunlight hurts you." 

"Only if it touches my skin," Tom assured him, taking a quick glance around the dark room he'd secluded them within as he sat up. He'd checked, before falling asleep, that no light would reach them, but checking his fortifications multiple times had become a necessity during time spent on the western coast of the United States, and he was none-too-keen to let rot a habit that could save his life. "I know how hard it is for you, but do try to have faith in my own ability to keep myself safe." 

Loki's expression contorted, trapped between incredulity and what Tom thought was chastisement. After a moment, though, he shook his head and looked down, expression hid by his over-long hair. "It is hard, to think of you as more than a mortal. And, still, you have lived but a third of my own life. To the Æsir, you would be an adolescent, yet." He peeked out from behind his hair, a smile playing around his lips. "At an age where you're certain you know everything, not yet wise enough to realise you still know very little." 

Tom smiled back. "Given how I am constantly discovering new abilities – not to mention living through the rapid technological evolutions of humanity – I might yet believe that." He sighed, then, and shook his head. "In correlation of ages, however... The oldest vampire I've heard of died at just over a millennium, killed by humans fashioning themselves as hunters, and mostly just catching him unawares." The story, in retrospect, was a humorous one, as much as it was a tale of caution about the dangers of stealing wives from a nearby village and fucking them instead of turning or killing them. "I can't say how much longer one might live than that, but it seems as though I'm about halfway through my lifespan." 

Loki considered that for a moment before, slowly, reaching up to trace his fingers over Tom's cheek. "You're cold." 

Tom shrugged. "My heart doesn't beat, and so I lack the warmth borne of blood flowing through one's veins." He chuckled. "It was disconcerting, at first, but I'm quite used to it, now. And it's actually quite nice, in the summer, since it keeps me from overheating when I have to pile on layers of clothing to go out during the day." 

Loki blinked. "So you can be out in the sun?" 

"To an extent, yes." Tom sighed. "It's uncomfortable, because I can feel it no matter how much cloth I wear, but during the longest days of the year, it's often a necessity, if I want to keep from starving." He glanced down at the light clothing he was wearing, then towards the two bags he'd brought with him, one of which held his travelling clothing. "I would burst into flames before you could say 'daylight', in this, but I do have some clothing which I wear if I need to go out during the day." 

"Burst into flames?" Loki repeated, sounding a little horrified. 

Tom nodded. "Yes. I've heard it's quite the sight, but it's not a sensation I'm interested in ever experiencing. The few times I've burned were quite enough." 

Loki shifted closer, cupping Tom's face between his hands. "Would that I could use my magic, you would no longer have cause to fear sunlight." Then he leaned in and pressed his lips to Tom's. Gentle, as though afraid Tom might break. 

Tom pulled the ex-god into his lap, deepening the kiss with intent; he had no interest in gentle, not with Loki. Gentle was for humans, and while Loki certainly seemed human at the moment, nothing about their relationship had _ever_ been gentle. 

Loki paused for a moment at the added vigour, before quickly responding in kind. He slid one hand back to fist in Tom's hair, while the other trailed down to the bottom of Tom's shirt, where it had ridden up in the back. There, he clawed at the bared skin, nails not sharp enough to break the skin, but pushing hard enough that Tom definitely felt it. Then he ground down into Tom's pelvis. 

Tom groaned into his mouth, then pulled away long enough to gasp out, "Please don't draw blood." 

Loki pulled back a bit at that, pupils blown wide from arousal and the darkness. "I thought you liked blood," he demanded, something sharp in his voice as he tightened his fist in Tom's curls. 

Tom pulled Loki's hips, bringing them in and down towards where his cock was straining at his trousers. "Love it," he admitted as Loki groaned and leaned forward, their foreheads knocking together almost too hard. "Just– Ah, _God_ – Blood and sex are a bad– Hah! Bad mix when I'm hungry." 

"Explain that in a minute," Loki ordered before grinding down hard. 

"Whatever you want," Tom swore before muting their noises of pleasure by locking lips again. 

In a reverse from centuries past, it was Loki who came first, whimpering and clinging to Tom's shoulder as he rode out his completion, then reaching down between them and palming Tom through his trousers until he came as well. 

Only after they'd both caught their breath and shucked off their messy trousers to lay, half-naked, under the blankets of the makeshift bed Tom had pulled together before dawn, did Tom explain, "I have to drink a certain amount of blood every week, and I've fallen a bit behind while crossing the country this past week. I can control myself just fine at the suggestion of blood, normally, but I'm rather less in control of myself while distracted by a lover." 

Loki's fingers traced marks against Tom's hip under the blanket. "And what would you do, then? Drink from me?" he caught Tom's gaze, clearly curious. 

Tom brushed a hand through Loki's hair, enjoying how tactile the ex-god had suddenly become. "Yes," he admitted bluntly, never one to lie about what he was with a bedmate. "It's unlikely that I would accidentally kill you, but I'd almost certainly leave you dangerously weak." 

Loki shuddered against him, the fingers tracing along Tom's hip pushing harder, like they wished to leave the marks they were tracing in Tom's skin. "To dance so with danger... You truly are a child among immortals." 

Tom snorted. "Or a most apt pupil of the God of Mischief." 

Loki smirked. "Ah, yes. That's very like something I might do. Especially if I, myself, am at no risk." 

"No more than any other day," Tom agreed fondly. "At any rate, I do know my limits. If you truly wish to learn how vampires mix blood with sex, I'll be more than happy to teach you once I've fed tonight." 

Loki hummed, eyes dancing as his hand pushed up, under Tom's shirt and came forward to trace symbols against his abdomen. "I recall a gentleman who blushed at the mere _thought_ of sex with a man. Now you speak of it as though it were...normal." 

Tom caught the accusation and immediately shook his head. "Sex, certainly. But with men? I have shared that sin with but a handful over the centuries, and none of them have been anywhere near as memorable as you." 

Loki smirked, ruffled feathers soothed. " _No one_ is as memorable as me." 

Tom suppressed both a snort and the urge to mention his Sire, who had quite enjoyed teaching Tom all the ways blood could be arousing. Instead, he just brushed a quick kiss to Loki's lips, then requested, "You should tell me of your brother, so I can perhaps manage him better, should we meet again." 

Loki made a face, then sighed. "I've little doubt you will, should you continue to keep my company..." 

-0-

Loki was sleeping when the sun sank below the horizon, so Tom pressed a brief kiss to his cheek, then slipped out to feed. While he was out, he heard that the Avengers had been seen around town more than usual. By all accounts, they appeared to just be wandering, but Tom didn't doubt for one moment that they were looking for Loki. 

He found his companion some food, knowing Loki was probably starving by now, as little as he was showing it, then made his way back to his hiding place. 

Loki was awake, though he didn't look as though he'd been conscious for long. He jumped when he turned and saw Tom in what was left of the doorway to the room they were in, and Tom was quick to say, "Sorry. It's only me. I brought you back some food." 

Loki's expression smoothed out briefly at the apology, then twisted with want at the mention of food. Tom was quick to hand the fast food bag over, settling down next to the former god as Loki demolished the offerings. There was no hint of thanks, but Tom hadn't, honestly, expected any. From what he remembered of Loki, he expected others to give him gratitude for the littlest things, but was ever unwilling to return the favour. 

_He's a god,_ Tom acknowledged, which explained everything that had once confused him about his alleyway lover. 

He waited until Loki was pretty much done before saying, "The Avengers are looking for you." 

Loki snorted. "Of course they are. Depending on the look Thor had of you, they're likely looking for you, as well." 

Tom shrugged. Given what he was, he was quite used to people hunting him, and had little fear of actually being found unless he wanted to be. Probably a little conceited, but he wasn't dead yet. "If you truly wish to avoid them for an extended time, we can probably sneak out of the city tomorrow night. I'll have to leave again to make preparations tonight, but it shouldn't take me long." 

Loki bared his teeth. "I'll not be trapped in one of their cages again like some _animal_ ," he snarled. "I will have my _freedom_ , if I must live this cursed existence." 

Tom didn't ask, because getting angry on Loki's behalf would do neither of them any favours. The best thing he could do for the former god, at this point, was get him out of the state as quickly as possible. Perhaps out of the country entirely, if he could find a way to get them over the border to Canada or Mexico. 

So he collected the food wrappers and stood. "I'll be back directly, then." 

Loki caught his wrist and stared up at him, expression a complicated mix of emotions that Tom couldn't parse through before the ex-god wiped his face blank. "You'll go later," he ordered. 

Tom raised an eyebrow at that. While the tone of Loki's voice was a reminder of centuries past, Tom was completely aware of how their dynamics had changed; he was no long the blushing mortal man trying desperately to be what society demanded him to be, while a green-eyed man whispered sin into his ears and ruined him for everyone else. "Will I?" he murmured. 

Loki's hand let go of his wrist and darted around to cup the front of Tom's trousers. "You will." 

Tom dropped the rubbish and reached down to drag Loki to his feet. In a heartbeat, he slammed the former god's back into the nearest wall, crowding his space with an air of violence that just seemed to turn Loki on. "You are asking me to chance your safety for a _fuck_ ," he hissed. 

Loki grabbed fistfuls of Tom's hair and pulled hard enough to tear some strands out. "You should know well enough by now, my Thomas, that I always think first of my body's needs." 

" _Wants_ ," Tom corrected before pulling against the grasp in his hair to devour Loki's mouth. 

Loki melted into the kiss, letting out a little whining sound that went straight to Tom's cock. And while a part of Tom understood that he was being played so Loki could get his way, most of him didn't give a fuck. He wanted Loki as much as Loki seemed to want him, and damn the whole world if he was going to back off now. 

Loki was more than old enough to make his own bad choices, and Tom knew better than to think he could stop the former god. 

When Loki started raising Tom's shirt to remove it, he obediently pulled back to allow it, then tilted his head to kiss along Loki's jaw, pausing at his ear to breathe, "I wonder how the blood of a god tastes," earning him a groan from his captive. Tom smiled before lowering his head to Loki's throat, licking his skin to find the perfect place to bite. When Loki shuddered against him, Tom knew he'd found it, and he smoothly sank his teeth into that spot. 

Warm blood flooded his mouth, tasting impossibly of snow, and carrying with it a particular zing that Tom had never encountered the likes of before. It almost made him pull away, the shock of it, and only centuries of training himself not to rip his fangs from someone's flesh stopped him. 

He swallowed his mouthful and there followed a sudden chill, then a rise in temperature that was not unlike the warmth of the sun through layers and layers of fabric. It was absolutely glorious, and it was a struggle to make himself coat the puncture wounds with saliva to heal them, rather than partaking of more. "Oh God," he groaned, only just realising how aroused that brief taste had made him. 

Loki was watching him when he raised his head, green eyes blown wide under lowered eyelids. "Everything you'd ever hoped for?" 

"There is _nothing_ about you that's not addicting," Tom murmured before gently catching Loki's lower lip with his fangs. Loki responded by pressing his blunt nails into Tom's back, which wasn't a no. And, even if it was, Tom wasn't about to bleed him again, not when he could give Loki a taste of his own blood and heighten his senses for a couple hours. Just enough that they would both feel every brush of skin, see every minute expression, taste every bead of sweat that coated their skin. 

For a normal human, such a gift of vampiric blood was often too much, especially once they were no longer distracted by sex. For a former god, however, Tom suspected it would be more than welcome. 

And, indeed, as Loki's carefully swallowed the blood Tom fed him by cutting his own tongue on one fang, his eyes went wide with surprise, brightening back to the shade of green Tom had best remembered. "Norns," he breathed against Tom's lips. His eyes focussed on Tom's, filling with awe as he whispered, "My Thomas. My beautiful, _glorious_ Thomas. _What have you done?_ "

"It'll only last for a few hours," Tom warned. "And it's only a reawakening of the senses." He trailed his hands lightly down Loki's bare chest, watching him arch into the touch as though it was far firmer. 

"Oh, but it's _more_ than that," Loki murmured, before Tom suddenly found himself lacking of his trousers. 

Tom stared at the wide smile Loki was bestowing on him. "What...?" 

"You've given me some of my magic back." His hands tightened on Tom's waist, as though preparing to pick him up and twirl him around, yet lacking the necessary strength. "I'm not _empty_ any more!" 

Tom's dead heart twinged with some mix of joy and regret. "It's not permanent," he warned again. 

Some of the glee left Loki's eyes, but he didn't stop smiling. "But it's there _now_ ," he insisted before bringing his hands up to cup Tom's face. "Even if just for a moment, I'm _alive_ again. _Thank you_."

Tom didn't quite know what to do with that gratitude, so he settled for the one response that was always acceptable between them: kissing Loki breathless. 

"Fuck me," Loki gasped once Tom had drawn away to lick along the former god's jaw and down his throat to the faint scars that marked where he'd drank from him. 

It took Tom a moment to fully understand what Loki had said, and then raised his head to meet Loki's steady stare with wide eyes. "You want _me_ in _you_?" he managed to get out. Always, in the past, Loki had been the one in _Tom_. (It was something Tom had never allowed another person, no matter how determined they were about the matter.) And while Tom would readily admit to having imagined their positions reversed, he'd never thought it possible, even with Loki's mortality. 

Loki's lips twitched with a suppressed smile and, using Tom's shoulders and the wall at his back to brace him, wrapped his legs around Tom's waist. " _Now_ ," he ordered as Tom's hands came down to support him. 

"I'm not going to hurt...you..." Tom trailed off as he probed Loki's anus with one finger and found it slick with oil and plenty willing to accept the intrusion. 

Loki smirked and Tom felt something warm and slick encasing his cock; lubricant, he would suppose. "When have I _ever_ cared for such mundane things as preparation?" the former god enquired smugly. 

"When indeed," Tom murmured as he carefully braced them both so he could guide himself into the former god, taking it slow just because he knew Loki would hate it. 

Loki's head went back, whole body arching at the start of the intrusion. As it continued, though, he eyed Tom with a glimmer of impatience and tried bearing down, to speed things along. But Tom was the physical superior, for once, and he didn't let Loki have his way. Stopped moving entirely, in fact. "Norns _damn_ you," Loki snarled. 

"Patience, lover," Tom returned. 

Loki dug his fingers into Tom's shoulders, nails suddenly sharp enough to pierce Tom's skin. Tom jerked in surprise, accidentally dropping Loki on to him the rest of the way. Loki let out a long moan of pleasure and clenched his muscles around Tom; a reward for doing as ordered. 

"Oh my God, you're such a bastard," Tom groaned, shuddering as he felt blood trickle down his back. 

Loki brought one hand to his mouth, unnaturally sharp fingernails glistening with blood. He slowly sucked each nail clean, moaning obscenely and holding Tom's gaze the entire time. 

Tom, for his part, just stared. It was hard not to be aroused by Loki, never mind when he was being seductive with the very thing that Tom's existence revolved around. "You'll be the death of me," he rasped when Loki traded hands. 

Loki's mouth curled with a smirk. " _Fuck me_ ," he ordered around one finger, teeth stained with Tom's blood. 

Tom didn't even think before he was reaching up to curl his hand around Loki's, forcing too-sharp nails to pierce Loki's own palm, mixing his blood with Tom's still under a couple of his nails. When Tom then leaned in to lick the welled blood, Loki let out a moan and pulled his hand away so he could kiss Tom, tongues painted in blood curling around each other hungrily. 

Tom finally gave in and fucked the former god, wringing desperate noises from him with each hard thrust. Most of them Tom swallowed, but a few fell free to colour the air around them, staining the room with the sound of their sin, just as Loki's bloody hands left stains upon Tom's shoulder and bicep, or he marked both of their abdomens with his release when he came, gasping words in a language long dead. 

When Tom came, it was a moment of utter glory. For to have this again, changed as it was, changed as _they_ were... There was no greater gift than Loki breathing hot against his ear, accepting what he was without flinching. _Enjoying_ what he was, as only Loki could. 

God of Mischief, indeed. 

Loki's magic served further purpose, as he used it to clean them both. He sat to see what he could do while Tom left to make what preparations he could. The travel tickets would have to wait until morning, he knew, and he'd be likely racing the daylight back to their hiding place, but Tom was happy to take the chance if it meant he could get Loki away from those that saw only evil in him as quickly as possible. 

-0-

"Well, we have tickets for tomorrow night's bus," Tom announced as he entered the room he and Loki were staying in. "We'll have to leave before sunset to make it in time, but I'm used to– Loki, lover, what's wrong?" he asked, kneeling in front of where Loki was hunched over, staring at his hand. 

Loki looked up at him at last, his eyes that dim green of mortality, and Tom understood before he could even open his mouth to explain, "My magic is gone." 

"Oh, Loki..." Tom whispered, cupping his hands around Loki's. "Do you–?"

"You're burned!" Loki realised, grabbing Tom's hand and turning it to look over the angry red marks that were still fading. 

Ah. Tom had forgotten his intent to hide that hand from Loki until it finished healing. His face hadn't been nearly as bad, so he'd waited in the hall for that to heal and hidden his hand behind his back. "It's fine," he promised, raising his unburned hand to brush through Loki's hair. "It'll be gone in a few minutes." 

"Are you burned anywhere else?" Loki demanded even as he turned Tom's head to check all of his face, then pulled his other hand down to inspect it. 

Tom allowed him his inspection, certain that nothing he could say would calm Loki faster than his own sight. Only when Loki had stopped looking for damage, did Tom smile and say, "It's just a burn. Painful, yes, but hardly life threatening. Honestly, if I didn't heal so perfectly, I would probably be sporting the most horrifying burn scars on my hands, for how often I forget my gloves." 

Loki relaxed, mouth twitching with a smile. "Some things never change." 

"Bad habits certainly don't," Tom agreed. "Though, in all fairness, people don't really wear glov–"

There was a crash, then a loud boom and a thunder of falling brick before sunlight cut across the room. Tom let out a startled cry and dove into a shadowed corner, his instincts getting him away from the danger almost before he'd realised it was there. 

"Thomas!" Loki shouted, stumbling to his feet and running after him, cupping Tom's face as soon as he reached him and giving him a quick look-over. 

"Brother!" a familiar voice boomed, and the sunlight was shadowed by a bulky form. 

"You unthinking _brute_!" Loki raged, turning towards Thor. "You're as bad as that green monster, smashing holes in walls just because you're too dumb to use a _door_! You could have brought the whole _building_ down!" 

Thor glanced up towards the ceiling, eyeing the cracks uncertainly. "Come, then. It is far safer for you in Avenger's–"

"I don't _want_ safer!" 

"And he hardly needs to be monitored twenty-four-seven by people who would sooner see him dead," Tom added as he tugged Loki back into the shadows with him, curling an arm around his waist to keep him there. 

Thor squinted, raising one hand to shade his eyes so he could see into the shadows. "Ah. Yes, the mortal from before. Please, it's not safe for Loki away from the Tower–"

"You'll have to try harder than that, considering the first time we met, you had your hand around his throat," Tom informed him drily. 

A roar of noise came from outside, then a voice called, "Thor! Didja find him? Fury looked like he was about to have an ulcer when he called me." 

Thor moved aside to admit a man in a suit of red and gold armour, saying, "I have, indeed, found my brother." 

Stark – it was hard to mistake him for anyone else, with him wearing that distinctive armour – gave an extremely obvious look at the large hole before turning to Thor, both eyebrows raised. "Do we need to have you sit in on Bruce's anger management classes?" 

Thor sighed and motioned towards Loki and Tom. "I did not wish the mortal to spirit him away again." 

Stark squinted towards the corner. "Yeah. Hey, you. You realise that guy isn't really stable, right?" 

"Do politely keep your impressions to yourself," Tom returned coldly. "You do no one any favours by assuming things you don't understand, Mr Stark." 

Stark blinked, then retorted, "Likewise. You don't even know who he _is_ –"

"Loki of Asgard, believed, by the humans of old, to be a god. Currently a mortal at the whims of the AllFather, and sent to Earth to serve out his punishment amongst the people he threatened." Tom smiled when Stark and Thor both stared at him with something akin to disbelief. "It is not blindly that I protect Loki, I assure you. Now, if you would kindly _fuck off_ –"

"Okay, no. No, see, because you are apparently not comprehending the whole 'mass murderer' thing. Because that bothers normal people." 

"Says the man who created one hundred bombs," Tom retorted. 

"I _stopped_ ," Stark snapped, stepping closer, the tread of his armour heavy as a death knell on the stone flooring. "I'm making my amends. What's _he_ done?" 

"Been locked in a cage!" Loki shouted, pulling against Tom's hold, as though he intended to walk right up and punch Iron Man in the face. (Given how his nails had retained their sharpness, it was just as likely he would rake them across Stark's face.) 

"And the first time we let you out, you fucking _escaped_ to cause mayhem!" Stark shouted back. "As if you haven't done enough damage to this city!" 

"I didn't do _anything_!" Loki snapped, and it was only because Tom knew him so well that he heard the note of pleading in his voice. 

Thor, too, seemed to hear it, for his expression softened and he reached out a hand. "Frien–"

"The _hell_ you didn't!" Stark spat, stepping close enough to be a very obvious threat. 

Tom pulled Loki behind him, snarling at the armour-encased man, teeth bared. 

Stark stumbled backwards, eyes gone wide. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed, eyes tracing along the line between shadow and light that divided Tom and Loki from him and Thor. "Thor, you didn't tell anyone Loki'd picked up with a fucking _vampire_."

Thor's face contorted with confusion. "A...what?" 

"A...a vampire. You know. Like, blood-sucking leeches that can't go out in sunlight? Vampires." 

"Draugr," Loki translated, wrapping his arms around Tom's chest from behind and resting his chin on Tom's shoulder. 

Thor's eyes widened with horror. "Brother," he breathed, quiet enough that Tom could barely hear him, and Loki definitely couldn't, "what have you done?" 

"I love how you think to blame everything on Loki, as though he's the root of all evil," Tom snapped. 

Loki sighed. "Thor, honestly. What could I _possibly_ accomplish like _this_?" He snorted and let his hands smooth down Tom's chest and abdomen, stopping at the top of his pelvis. "Anyway, Thomas was changed five hundred years ago. Long before your interest in Midgard, certainly." 

"Five _hundred_?" Stark repeated, then shook his head. "Holy shit, no. No, I am not letting Rudolf run around _my city_ –"

"So far as you're concerned, Mr Stark, the entire _country_ is 'your city'," Tom interrupted sweetly. 

"My point exactly," Stark replied, raising one hand to point his palm at Tom's chest. 

"No!" Loki shouted, but he needn't have worried. 

Thor's hand reached out and tugged Stark's arm down, watching Tom and Loki as though seeing a ghost. "Thomas," he murmured. "You spoke of a Thomas once, Brother." 

Loki tensed against Tom's back, his hands balling into fists against the front of Tom's hips. The smell of blood wafted up to him, telling him Loki's nails were again serving the purpose the former god had shaped them for. "Surely not," Loki said, falsely casual. 

"You did. Mother told me. She said he was the reason for your disappearances beyond Heimdall's gaze, and your grief in the decade following." Thor's eyes caught on Tom's. "I had not thought you to be a mortal." 

"I'm not," Tom returned absently as he gently prised open Loki's fists. "Not for a long time now." 

"No," Thor agreed, his gaze going to where Loki's head was still balanced against Tom's shoulder, his chin digging into the bone there. "I understand, now, your words on Bifröst. You spoke not in hatred, but in a grief long unhealed." 

"Save me your pathetic psycho–" Loki started. 

"Stop," Tom requested, and Loki fell silent. 

"That is a cool trick," Stark said a bit inanely. 

"Leave," Tom ordered the two men standing in the sunlight. "You walk away now, and I _promise_ you'll never see either of us again." 

"And if we don't?" Thor requested. 

Tom narrowed his eyes. "You will see how much a vampire can lay a city to ruin in one night." 

"We could just kill you now," Stark commented. "It's daylight, and this building is slated for demolition anyway." 

"You wouldn't _dare_ ," Loki snarled, hands attempting to curl into fists again, but only succeeding in stabbing his sharp nails into Tom's hands. 

Unflinching, Tom met Stark's gaze. "You won't. Thor won't let you, for one. For another, there are five other vagrants in this building right now, one of which is a child. You bring this building down to force me into the sunlight, you kill them too." He smiled. "You're in the business of saving lives, Mr Stark, not ending them." 

"I kill you, I _am_ saving them," Stark snapped. 

"I don't kill for blood," Tom returned. "I haven't for nearly a century. I only kill to protect myself and mine." He raised an eyebrow. "So I say again: _Leave_."

"Come, Friend Tony," Thor murmured, tugging Tony towards the opening. 

"You can't just leave Loki with some _vampire_ ," Stark complained, even as he allowed himself to be led away. 

"My duty, as given to me by my father, is to ensure Loki's safety, and that he will come to regret his deeds," Thor replied. "This is what I am doing." 

"I'll _never_ regret what I did," Loki spat, voice pitched low, so only Tom would hear. 

"Humans have a saying," Tom murmured as they watched the two Avengers take to the sky. " 'Never say never'." 

Loki let out a wordless snarl of disgust. 

Tom squeezed his hands, then easily twisted in his hold until he could press a kiss to Loki's angry mouth. "I never stopped mourning you," he admitted. 

Loki slumped against him, as though Tom's words had unplugged the drain for all of his anger and hatred. And when he looked at Tom, he was nothing more than a man torn to pieces by his own grief and the unkindness of others. "I love you," he whispered, and it looked as though the words had torn his heart from his breast and left him to ruin. 

Tom pressed a hand against Loki's chest, over his heart, and whispered back, "In all the world, you are the one thing I have never been able to forget, and nor would I ever wish to." He kissed Loki again, mapping out the feel of those lips smiling against his own, then added, "For five hundred years, I have loved you, though my heart has long since ceased to beat. And whether you would give me the chance or not, I will absolutely love you for five hundred more." 

"Five thousand more?" Loki asked, a hint of teasing to his voice. 

"If I live so long, yes." 

"You will," Loki swore. 

Tom couldn't help but believe him. 

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went back and forth for a good four thousand words, trying to decide if I should give Loki his magic back by the end of this. I decided not to, in the end. I figure, if I leave it open this way, I'll be more likely to come back to this world. Maybe. If you're lucky. XD


	21. Double Penetration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Clones (male  & female), Lokicest, voyeurism, exhibitionism, toys, multiple penetration (everywhere, just... _everywhere_ ), rough sex, PWP, ~~your writer is on crack~~ , Loki does what he wants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First this was just going to be some Lady Loki between Tom and male Loki. And then my brain went and decided it would be about a million times more awesome if Tom was watching a Loki orgy. Because why not. (How much money do you think I'd have to pay someone to draw this for me?)  
> I am sorry, in advance, if this reads awkwardly. If anyone comes out the other end confused about something, lemme know and I'll try to clear it up. ^.^"
> 
> Props to DarkFlowerDreaming for being my super awesome sounding board when I was trying to sort out positions. XD ♥♥

Tom had no idea how it had started, he just came home from a long day of weapons practise and found Loki in the bedroom with...well, himself. Or herself. Multiple times. 

He just stopped in the bedroom doorway and stared. There were two female Lokis kneeling on the bed (which was unusually narrow), facing each other, lips locked. Their breasts were pressed together, nipples perfectly aligned, and a double-ended dildo glowing green moved easily back and forth between them of its own power. 

There was a male Loki behind each female, standing at the edge of the bed and running their hands over the skin of each woman's back, mapping out marks that were invisible to Tom, but clearly not to Loki. (Tom suspected they were long-healed marks from whatever Loki had gone through before they met; he'd seen the god and his clones make that particular action – only ever on themselves – too many times to assume it was something more innocent.) 

One of the male Lokis glanced up and caught Tom's gaze. He smirked, eyes bright with mischief, then motioned towards one of the armchairs from the living room, which had been placed at the foot of the bed. "Have a seat, my Thomas," Loki purred. 

The other three turned to watch as Tom cautiously made his way over to the chair. "What are you up to?" he asked, though he hardly expected an answer. 

The moment he sat, two more Lokis appeared on either side of him. One leaned over to give him a kiss determined to bruise his lips, while the other made quick work of vanishing his clothing before pressing a gentle kiss to Tom's already interested cock. It twitched at the attention and Loki chuckled against his lips before whispering, "Enjoy," and pulling away to join the array on the bed. 

While Tom had been distracted by the two Lokis who'd appeared next to him, the Lokis on the outside had started roughly preparing the women, who were moaning into each other's mouths. The dildo between them was still glowing, but it had fallen still for the moment. The one on the left wiggled her arse, only for the Loki behind her to smack it in a clear show of disapproval. She jerked forward, only caught by her partner, who leaned around her to glare at the Loki preparing her. 

(Tom was beginning to realise he might be better served numbering the Lokis, at least in his own head.) 

The two Lokis who greeted him – Tom mentally dubbed them Five and Six – stepped up behind the two males – Three and Four – and unceremoniously shoved a thin rod into both of them. They both jerked in surprise, the one on the right (Four) letting out a desperate whimper, but didn't stop preparing the women. 

Five and Six tapped the women – One and Two – on the shoulders, and both ladies turned around for a moment to give them a hand up. The woman on the left (One) wasted no time in ducking her head and licking up her Loki (Five)'s cock, causing him to grab a fistful of her hair and pull her head back. "Minx," he hissed, approval in the word. 

On the right, Six had crouched down next to Two, half hidden behind her, and locked lips. They were angled in just such a way that Tom could see the dance of their tongues between their open mouths, saliva stringing between them and dripping down their chins. 

It struck Tom, then, that Loki was putting on a show for him. That every part of this, from the inclusion of his female form – which he only ever donned when he wanted to go out into public as Tom's date, insisting that he wouldn't 'tarnish his reputation with a male lover'; Loki's words, not his – to the positioning, was being done with Tom in mind. 

Five met his eyes over where One was worshipping his cock with her mouth, eyes sharp and knowing, as though he'd read Tom's thoughts. 

Three and Four reached up to pat Five and Six, who immediately stepped back from the women, Six standing again. Once they were away, Three and Four slid smoothly into One and Two, drawing moans of pleasure from the two women. They were all still for a moment, then Five and Six stepped forward and moved between the women and the two Lokis on the floor, carefully balancing on the edges of the mattress, over the connections of the Lokis beneath them. They were facing out, and their cocks were at about the perfect height for Three and Four's mouths. 

Tom didn't realise he'd let out a moan as Three and Four easily swallowed Five and Six to the base, until the latter two turned to look at him, eyes dancing and lips curling with the exact same smirk. And then they sort of leaned over backwards, bracing themselves on One and Two's shoulders, and connected for a messy kiss. 

Tom wrapped a hand around his cock, then, leaning back in the armchair and spreading his legs a bit wider as he ran his thumb over the head. 

Five and Six almost absently pushed off from each other, straightening over where Three and Four were fucking roughly into One and Two's arses. Tom found his eyes drawn to where the dildo had begun moving between the women at one point. Both women had two fingers rubbing furiously at their own clit, while their other hand was holding on to one of their opposite's breasts, mouths clamped over the nipple and jaws moving in a way that suggested there were teeth involved. 

Someone snapped their fingers – Tom was a little too distracted by the two female Lokis to know who – and Three and Four both choked before pulling off Five and Six cocks. Tom wasn't certain why for a long moment, but then One rolled her hips back insistently, and when Three obediently started fucking her again, his cheeks flushing attractively, Tom caught sight of the thin rod Five had shoved into him before getting onto the bed. Except the rod wasn't so small any more, was probably about two centimetres in diameter, Tom guessed, and it was still growing rapidly. 

"Get back to it," Six snarled, grabbing a fistful of Four's hair and pulling his head forward. "It's not going to suck itself, and you're ignoring poor Loki." 

"Go fuck yourself," Four snarled right back. 

Six's eyes narrowed and he leaned down slightly. " _Gladly_ ," he replied before grabbing Four's jaw and digging his fingers into the hinge. When Four opened his mouth, wincing, Six shoved his cock inside and used Four's hair to hold his head in place as he fucked him, hard and unforgiving. 

That was pretty much the last straw for Tom, and he pressed his head back against the chair back hard as his orgasm crested. 

He'd wanted to keep watching as he came, but his eyes slid shut against his will. When he managed to force them open again, he found Loki crouched in front of him on the edge of the mattress, looking disgustingly smug. "Enjoy yourself, my Thomas?" he purred, the words curling against his tongue like sin. 

Tom glanced down between Loki's legs, where his cock hung limp. Even flaccid, it was impressive, but then, Tom's package was nothing to mock. He raised an eyebrow at Loki and held out a hand, a silent request for the god to join him in the armchair. "Not as much fun as you had, I dare say," he murmured as Loki obediently climbed into his lap, hands possessively running along his arms and around the curve of his shoulders. "What brought this treat on?" 

Loki leaned his head against Tom's shoulder, lips pressing lightly against the skin of his throat. "I was in a giving mood." 

Tom raised both eyebrows at that disbelievingly, then the words clicked in his mind and he huffed out a laugh as he wrapped his arms around his lover. "If I turn on Christmas music during the proper season, you do nothing but bitch. What is it about the off-season that has you actually _wanting_ to listen to it?" 

"I do what I want, Thomas," Loki reminded him, tone dry, but a note of exhaustion to his voice; all the magic he'd performed to make his show work had clearly done a number on him. 

Tom chuckled and kissed Loki's shoulder. "Change the bed back so we can go to sleep." 

Loki let out an irritated huff as he sat up to do so, but melted when Tom kissed him. "Distracting," Loki murmured against Tom's lips. 

"You're not, honestly, complaining." 

Loki pulled away, lips stretched wide with the sort of smile that would have put Tom on his guard, if he hadn't known how tired the god was. "I'm _never_ honest," he declared before flicking a hand behind him and fixing the bed. 

Tom rolled his eyes and let Loki have the last word; they both knew it was a lie.

.


	22. Foodplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Popsicle/ice lolly sex, Loki does what he wants, intersex Jötunn!Loki, technically an AU, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, this was just going to be normal ice cream, in reminder of Days [Thirteen](http://batsutousai.tumblr.com/post/36672594986/fic-clouds-in-my-coffee-tom-hiddleston-loki-day) and [Twenty-One](http://batsutousai.tumblr.com/post/37270224134/fic-clouds-in-my-coffee-tom-hiddleston-loki-day) of Clouds in My Coffee, but then I happened to be playing with my mobile while thinking about this day, and what should my background be but [this picture](http://tothetwelve.tumblr.com/post/69904584000/popsicle). *shoves all the blame for this foolery onto Sin*

"Ravish me," Loki ordered, just so he could watch Thomas freeze and slowly pivot on the stairs, an ice lolly in one hand and an open paperback in the other. 

Loki had laid himself on the couch, clothes vanished and legs spread invitingly. He'd moved to do so as soon as he'd heard the freezer door, because there wasn't a whole lot the mortal would be getting in there when it was hot enough to fry an egg on the pavement and all the windows were wide open in hopes of catching a breeze. 

Thomas gave his ice lolly a quick lick, catching a drip along the bottom edge, and absently folded down the corner of one page before closing his book. "What are you doing here?" he wondered, moving forward. 

Loki cocked an eyebrow, but he knew it was a valid question; he'd sworn off Midgardian summers about three days into his first one. Still, Thomas should know better than to expect Loki would _actually_ answer that question beyond the ever amusing (for him) and aggravating (for everyone else), "I do as I please." 

Thomas' book hit the coffee table and bounced off, unnoticed, as its owner hummed and settled comfortably between Loki's spread legs. "One of these days," he murmured as he ran a finger up Loki's leg, "someone will hurt you for saying that." 

"Maybe someone already has," Loki replied, just to make Thomas' eyes narrow with angry suspicion. (Though, for once, he wasn't lying about something just for the reaction it would elicit; Odin's brute of a son had actually backhanded him once for saying those very words. Thor had been drunk at the time, and ended up with two months of solitary confinement as punishment for striking Jötunheimr's ambassador, but that hardly excused his actions, for all that everyone played as though all had been forgiven.) 

Thomas shook his head, expression smoothing out to one of amusement. "Unfortunately for them, you're more than capable of fighting your own battles." 

And this was why Loki kept coming back; it was a balm to have someone who didn't look at him and immediately think he was weak. He wrapped a leg around Thomas' back and pulled him closer. "You must be warm, overdressed as you are," he murmured before vanishing the mortal's clothing. 

Thomas' eyes flickered towards the nearest open window. "Tell me there's a spell on the windows to keep people from snapping photos," he ordered before licking to catch another drip of his ice lolly. 

Loki rolled his eyes, but obediently stated, "There's a spell to keep morons from taking pictures of your home." There was, actually, a long-term spell keeping people unrelated to Thomas from seeing into the windows at all, not that Loki would ever admit to casting it. 

Thomas seemed to decide that was sufficient assurance, for he turned his ice lolly upside down and pressed it against Loki's left nipple. 

Cold bloomed at the touch, and Loki's Áss form – far more comfortable in this heat – wavered, blue rippling out from the point of contact. Loki arched into it, desperate for the relief. 

Thomas idly dragged the tip of the ice lolly across Loki's chest to his other nipple and held it there for a moment before popping it into his mouth, eyes meeting Loki's. "Seriously. You swore off visiting in summer two years ago," he said, voice muffled by the cold treat. 

Loki groaned, drawing the noise out just to show how displeased he was with the topic. "I was _bored_."

"You missed me," Thomas returned and his eyes gleamed. 

Loki snarled and repositioned his foot so he could dig his heel into the mortal's back, making him wince. " _Fuck me_ ," he ordered. 

Thomas leaned forward, looming over Loki. "Admit you missed me and I will," he bargained. 

Loki buried a hand in Thomas' curls and tugged hard. "If you _ever_ ," he hissed, "spend another five months at your planet's equator, I will cause an ice age." 

Thomas' chuckled. "I'll keep that in mind next time I'm agreeing to a film," he agreed before cold shot up Loki's spine, radiating from where something had started pushing into his anus. 

He couldn't help but gasp at the unexpected change in his body's temperature, his false skin vanishing without his permission. The leg he had wrapped around the mortal felt like there was fire licking at every point of contact, but Loki barely noticed that, as whatever Thomas had used to chill him was withdrawn. He whimpered when the cold thing – the ice lolly; he should have known – was trailed up, over the lips of his cunt and the underside of his length, before Thomas shoved it back into his mouth. "Damn you," he managed past the icy want his body was practically screaming at him. "If you don't fuck me _right no_ –!"

And then Thomas's cock was pushing into his cunt, moving slowly and giving Loki the chance to adjust to the sudden burn filling him. "Here," Thomas murmured, pressing the ice lolly against Loki's mouth. "Don't change on me." 

Loki was grateful for the treat and the counterpoint it provided to Thomas and the weather's combined heat. "Should have grabbed more," he informed the mortal before clamping his mouth shut around the ice lolly to keep in a whine as Thomas finally bottomed out. _Norns_ , he was big. Not that Loki was complaining; Thomas' impressive cock was half the reason Loki had braved the heat to visit. 

(Not that Thomas was the largest lover Loki had ever had – the Æsir tended to be larger than most humans, and Loki _had_ spent almost a millennium in Asgard – but his lack of prejudice against Jötnar, and his constant amusement regarding Loki's mischief, made him far superior to even the greatest endowed of Loki's former bedmates.) 

"If I'd known you were here," Thomas whispered as he leaned down, breath still chilled from the ice lolly fanning across Loki's lips and cheek, "I would have." He caught the wood stick of the ice lolly between his teeth and pulled it loose before spitting it to one side. "They're in the door of the freezer, bottom shelf, if you want to get them," he added before closing his mouth around the end of the ice lolly and hollowing his cheeks as he sucked on it. 

Loki groaned and flicked his fingers, transporting the requested box onto his stomach. The cardboard was wonderfully cold, and Loki sighed in pleasure even as Thomas jerked away in surprise at the sudden chill between them. (Okay, so Loki had done that on purpose.) "As requested," he drawled, not even caring that the ice lolly in his mouth rather ruined the effect. 

Thomas' chuckled, appreciating the prank as it was meant, and pulled a wrapped ice lolly from the box. "If you would kindly refresh the spell on my– _OhGod_!" he gasped as Loki immediately reached behind the mortal and cupped his hanging sack. 

Loki smirked as he refreshed the spell protecting Thomas' seed from the cold. "Anything you ask for, my Thomas," he murmured. 

"Minx," Thomas returned, voice fond, before he pulled back, completely withdrawing from Loki, who couldn't hold back a whimper at the loss, as nice as it was to give his body a moment to cool back down. "I know," Thomas murmured, pressing a kiss to Loki's knee before pressing the ice lolly against the opening of Loki's cunt. 

When Loki tried pushing against the treat so it would enter him, it was pulled away. " _Thomas_ ," he growled in warning. 

Thomas' eyes were dancing as they peeked up at Loki's irritated expression before returning to where he was teasing the Jötunn. "Sorry," he offered, sounding anything but. He stuck the ice lolly into his mouth and sucked on it for a moment, watching Loki's darkening glare the entire time, then pulled it out and said, "Let me make it up to you," and leaned down to take Loki's cock into his cold mouth. 

Loki arched up into him, then cried out and dug his fingers into the fabric of the couch as the ice lolly slipped into his cunt, soothing away any hint of burn. "Norns," he gasped, the ice lolly falling from his own mouth and settling against his throat. "Oh _fuck_. Damn you and your talented– _Ah_!"

Thomas' eyes were glinting, caught on Loki's as he fucked him with the ice lolly. He raised his head until his lips were barely encasing the head of Loki's cock, then firmly pressed his tongue against Loki's slit. 

Loki's hips jerked up, forcing his cock back into the mortal's mouth and sending the box of ice lollies tumbling to the floor, wrappers crinkling quietly as a few fell out and rolled under the coffee table. 

Thomas pulled off Loki and tutted. "Look at the mess you've made." 

Loki closed his eyes and sucked in a breath as Thomas pulled the treat from his cunt. "I hate you so much." 

Thomas chuckled and slipped a hand under Loki's arse, boosting him up slightly so he could push a pillow under him. "You love it," he corrected before gently pushing the ice lolly against Loki's sphincter. Loki groaned as the treat slipped into him, cold and perfect. 

Thomas kept going until it was all the way inside, Loki's sphincter closing tight around the stick, which Thomas then withdrew. "Better?" he asked as he licked the stick. 

Loki felt cold and full, as though he'd partaken of a Jötunn lover again, though he'd sworn he never would after the way he and Angrboða had parted. It was not unpleasant, and he relaxed into the sensation, picking up his fallen ice lolly and pressing it into the centre of Thomas' chest. He gave a subtle shudder at the chill and raised one eyebrow, expression curious. "It is," Loki finally allowed, "but it's not what I came here for." He slipped the ice lolly back into his mouth, hollowing out his cheeks in a reminder of Thomas' earlier tease, then trailed sticky fingers down his body and wrapped them around his cock. 

Thomas' eyes darkened. "No," he agreed, voice gone rough, "I don't suppose it is." 

And then the mortal was inside Loki again, the heat of his cock burning Loki's cunt and the skin separating him from the inserted ice lolly. The stark contrast in temperatures had Loki howling with pleasure, reaching for Thomas' arms so he could pull the mortal down against him and feel the heat of him against his chest and abdomen, while the ice lolly chilled his spine. 

Thomas chuckled breathlessly against Loki's throat, licking a stripe of heat over the bob of his throat. One of his hands ran lightly up Loki's side and along his arm to where the hand not roughly stroking at his own cock had gripped the couch hard enough to rip the fabric. The mortal slipped his fingers between Loki's palm and the ripped fabric, pressing against his skin until Loki finally gave in with a whimper and transferred his grip, their fingers falling naturally into a lover's grip. 

"Come on," Thomas gasped, his other hand tightening against Loki's hip. " _Come on_."

Loki gave himself one last stroke before letting go, spilling between them even as his muscles clamped tight around both Thomas' cock and the ice lolly within him. 

Thomas groaned and managed one last thrust before he was filling Loki with his seed, body-hot and only comfortable because Loki's passage was already warmed by the mortal's cock. 

"I h- _hah_ -te you," Loki gasped as Thomas withdrew at last, the warmth of him quickly chased away by the ice lolly still held in Loki's arse. 

Thomas leaned up and kissed him, squeezing the hand still wrapped with his. "I know you do," he whispered before licking around Loki's mouth. "Did you eat my ice lolly?" 

Loki honestly had no idea what had happened to the treat after Thomas finally gave him what he wanted, so he shrugged and turned to peek over the edge of the couch, where the fallen box still lay. "There are more." 

"Yes, but that one was _mine_ ," Thomas complained, even as he leaned down and made quick work of shoving the fallen treats back in the box. He kept out two, which he started unwrapping while requesting, "Put that back in the freezer?" 

Loki snorted, but did so. Given that his reward was one of the ice lollies and the heat of Thomas laying against him for the next couple hours, he supposed it was a fair trade.

.


	23. Trying a New Position

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Sex in a public place, sexual teasing, Loki is a little shit, Tom is incapable of telling him no, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An idea struck me one night, for exactly what this day would be. Hopefully the idea is as awesome to you lot as it was to my exhausted mind. XD

"Jesus!" Thomas gasped when he turned around. 

Loki smirked at him. "Not quite." 

The mortal groaned and rubbed at his face. "Loki. You _promised_."

Loki snorted and waved a hand at the empty studio. "There is no one here to see me." 

Thomas stalked up to the throne Loki had seated himself in. "Right _now_. But they'll be back. And I can't just tell people you're a body double, not for this film. Which you _know_."

Loki grabbed Thomas' wrist and pulled the mortal forward until he had half fallen into Loki's lap. "You would deny your king his wishes?" 

Thomas sighed and rolled his eyes, but didn't attempt to pull away. "Loki, sitting in a throne created for a film does _not_ make you a king." 

Loki wrapped an arm around his mortal's waist and flicked his fingers. There was a brief moment of disorientation, then he offered, "No, but sitting in _this one_ does." 

Thomas' head whipped around. He stared at the empty hall in shock for a long moment before turning back to Loki and whispering, "You did _not_ just kidnap me." 

"That is correct, in that you are not a child." 

"Semantics. You've brought me to Asgard," Thomas deadpanned. 

Loki nodded. "Quite true." 

" _Without my permission_."

Loki sighed and leaned back in the throne, eyeing his mortal tiredly. "Thomas, you have mentioned now, on forty-eight separate occasions, that you would give any number of objects – including your own body parts – to visit the real Asgard. If you truly have no wish in visiting, however..." He raised one hand, sparkling with magic. 

"I didn't say _that_ ," Thomas was quick to insist, wrapping his own hands around Loki's. 

Loki tilted his head to one side. "No? Then you _do_ wish to be here?" 

"Of course! I just..." Thomas sighed and glanced down at himself while Loki resisted the urge to smirk with victory. "Some warning would have been nice, Loki. And a chance to change out of this costume." 

Loki nodded. "Ah. Yes, I always forget you find that costume uncomfortable. Shall I assist you in slipping into something a little more comfortable?" 

"That might be nice," Thomas agreed. But when Loki put his hands on him to remove the costume, he seemed to realise his mistake, for he said, "On second thought–"

"Too late," Loki informed him before vanishing his costume and the wig. The mortal's hair was an absolute wreck, and he flushed at his nakedness, but didn't bother attempting to cover himself. "There, much more comfortable, would you not say?" 

"I'd rather the costume," Thomas deadpanned, and Loki laughed. "You didn't bring me here to play tourist, did you?" 

Loki ran his hands up the mortal's front, splaying them over his pectorals. "That depends on your definition," he murmured. "You'll be seeing Asgard, certainly, but we'll have to save the tour for your next holiday." He leaned forward and nipped at Thomas' chin. "Turn around." 

"Why are you such a pervert?" Thomas complained even as he did as ordered. 

Loki hummed and lightly clawed his fingers down Thomas' back, just to watch him arch and feel him shift in his lap. "You enjoy it so." He reached forward and slipped his arms under Thomas' thighs. "Legs up." 

Thomas shuddered as he let Loki direct his legs over the arms of the throne, baring him to the room. "Is anyone likely to come in?" he breathed. 

Loki chuckled and slid his hands up Thomas' legs to his pelvis, one getting side-tracked by his interested cock, the other moving further down to his opening. "Only if you're loud," he whispered to his mortal before shoving two fingers inside him, causing Thomas to jerk and choke on a cry. "And I do so hope you are." 

"Oh, God," Thomas moaned. "I hate you." 

Loki thumbed the head of Thomas' cock, sliding against the precum gathering there. "Liar." 

"Learned from the best," Thomas quipped back before clapping a hand over his mouth to keep in a cry when Loki sparked magic through his channel, forcing him open. 

Loki tutted and took his hand from inside his mortal's body. "You make a sham of my teachings. You really must learn to better control your body." He moved his hand from Thomas' cock so he could help lift the mortal enough to position his own cock at his stretched entrance. "Tell me you love this," he ordered, teasing the head of his cock against Thomas' twitching sphincter. 

Thomas shook his head, one hand still covering his mouth while the other helped balance him. He tried bearing down, but Loki kept his grip steady, refusing to let him move even a centimetre. 

"Say it," Loki ordered again, knocking the head of his cock against Thomas' sack hard enough to send it swinging. 

"I hate this," Thomas gasped, then let out a whine as Loki lowered him just enough to tease them both, the head of his cock pushing against Thomas' sphincter enough that it began to open to him, but not enough to actually enter. 

"The _truth_ ," Loki growled, his voice cracking with want. Norns, but he loved it when Thomas played along, tormenting them both by being stubborn. As though he hadn't admitted to his love of Loki's kinks time and again in the past. 

Thomas leaned back slightly and Loki shifted forward enough to brace him. Thomas turned, then, and nudged his cheek against Loki's forehead. "Tell me one thing, darling." 

"Must I?" 

Thomas laughed a bit breathlessly. "How long have you wanted to fuck someone here?" 

Loki smirked against Thomas' skin. "Since before I knew what sex was," he admitted before nipping at the back of Thomas' neck, forcing the laugh he let out to catch in the middle. "The truth, my Thomas." 

Thomas arched his chest forward and dropped his head to Loki's shoulder so he could breathe in his ear, "I love this _so fucking much_. You arse." 

"Oh no," Loki whispered back as he turned his head towards his mortal, " _your_ arse." He kissed him hard as he lowered his mortal onto his cock, swallowing the long moan Thomas let out at the slow intrusion. 

Thomas ended the kiss to breathe hotly against Loki's lips, eyes moving out towards the long hall and looking it over. "The guards won't really come," he whispered, almost pleading. 

Loki smirked. "I haven't the faintest. Perhaps they are used to noises of copulation coming from Hliðskjálf." 

Thomas groaned. "Brain bleach. Please." 

Loki licked at the mortal's lips before nudging him with his shoulder. "Feel free to keep watch," he offered. 

Thomas obediently lifted his head to watch, jaw clenching to hold in noise as Loki lifted him up, then dropped him back down. He only lasted another two movements before he was covering his mouth with one hand, the other clamped tight around Loki's bicep, tightening every time his muscles flexed. 

Loki was just starting to feel his peak approaching when Thomas whimpered, "Loki. Loki, there are guards." 

Loki looked over Thomas' shoulder to see two guards at the far end of Glaðsheimr, looking towards the great doors leading out of the hall. They would have come from between the pillars, through the smaller doors, which were used primarily by guards and servants. It was the hourly patrol; he'd timed things _perfectly_. "Shall we call their attention?" he gasped in Thomas' ear. 

Thomas tensed. "Loki, no," he whispered back. 

Loki thrust up into Thomas as he brought him back down, hitting hard within him. Hard enough that Thomas let out a cry, which coincided beautifully with the other four members of the patrol stepping out from between the pillars. 

The nearest two looked towards the throne and Thomas ejaculated with a sob, falling back against Loki and hiding his face against the god's throat. "Oh God," he whimpered. "Oh God." 

Loki laughed and pushed up into Thomas one more time before he came, riding the high of near discovery and Thomas' shame. 

It took Thomas a moment to realise the guards had taken no notice of the display. He peeked back out at them, then pulled back enough to stare at Loki's pleased smile. "You turned us invisible." 

"I cast an illusion on Hliðskjálf," Loki corrected, relaxing back into the gold chair. 

Thomas carefully lowered his legs, both of them hissing as the movement shifted Loki's softening cock within the mortal. Still, Thomas made no attempt to disconnect them, only leaned back against Loki. "You couldn't have warned me?" he complained. 

"And miss that glorious display?" Loki chuckled, wrapping his arms comfortably around his mortal. "Not for all the Realms." 

"I hate you," Thomas said fondly before kissing Loki's jaw. 

"You're a terrible liar," Loki teased and Thomas snorted before turning his head for a proper kiss.

.


	24. Gagged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Loki's lips sewn shut, dub con, public sex, Odin is a giant dick, Tom is a BAMF

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This idea came to me hand-in-hand with the idea for yesterday's fic. Today is unrelated to yesterday's beyond them coming to me at the same time. And, you know, happening in the same room. XD
> 
> The film Tom's in the middle of is absolutely made up. The event he refers to, however, comes from [Day 10](http://batsutousai.tumblr.com/post/36462195802/fic-clouds-in-my-coffee-tom-hiddleston-loki-day) of _Clouds In My Coffee_ , though knowledge of that particular ficlet is hardly necessary for enjoyment of this one.

Given how determined Loki seemed to keep Asgard and Tom separate, the _last_ thing the actor would have expected was Thor pushing past security in the middle of Tom filming a scene and stalking up to him while the director started making a fuss. 

And, yet... 

"I have need of your assistance," Thor rumbled as he reached Tom. 

Tom blinked and carefully rubbed at the back of his neck, where it wouldn't be noticeable if he smudged his make-up. "Uhm, hi. If Loki broke another building, I'm really sorry, but I have no more control–"

" 'Another'?" Thor repeated, eyebrows raising. 

They stared at each other for a moment, ignoring the voices of Tom's co-workers clamouring for attention around them. 

"You didn't know about that," Tom assumed. 

"No." 

He nodded. "Right. Pretend I never said anything." He held out his hand for a shake as Thor's mouth twitched with a smile. "Hello, Thor. Nice to finally meet you. Please understand that, whatever trouble Loki's caused, I had nothing to do with it, and I am incapable of reigning him in. Despite my best intentions." 

Any hint of amusement vanished from Thor's expression. "It is well, then, that I come not for you to speak _to_ my brother, but _for_ him." 

Tom felt suddenly cold, in spite of the space heaters keeping the draughty building a comfortable temperature for the under-dressed actors, the voices around him a little too loud. He cleared his throat and carefully asked, "What's happened?" 

Thor grimaced. "He was found and escorted back to Asgard by a party Father sent out for reasons I've not been privy to, then silenced and set to trial. I may not speak for him – and nor would he have me, was there the option – but I believe you will face no such difficulty." 

Tom didn't have to think before he was agreeing, "Yes, of course." Loki would not be pleased, but there would be little he could do to deter Tom if he was incapable of speech. 

Thor didn't wait for further permission, simply tugged Tom against him and looked down at where he was holding the Tesseract. Tom's eyes went wide as the cube lit up, then slammed shut at the dizzy sensation that washed over him. 

When everything steadied, Tom opened his eyes to find them standing in front of two massive gold doors. It took him a moment to realise he was clutching at the edge of Thor's armour, and he quickly pulled away, embarrassed. If Loki ever found out he'd been clutching at his brother like a damsel in distress, he'd turn into an absolute misery of jealousy and rude jokes at Tom's expense. 

Thor nodded to the two guards standing in front of the doors. "I have brought one to speak in my brother's defence." 

The guards traded looks, then the one on the left explained. "The trial has already begun and the prisoner passed his right to speak–"

"You mean he _can't_ speak," Tom snapped, anger and terror for his lover making him brave. (Or maybe it was the costume; if Thor had to drag him to Asgard during a film, at least it was one where his costume didn't look out of place in this world.) "Get out of my way." 

Something like approval lit Thor's face as the two guards turned and pushed the large doors open, admitting Tom to a large hall. The throne room, Tom knew from his work on the Marvel films, and a part of his mind grasped for the proper name for the place – Loki had used it more than once – but Tom's knowledge of Icelandic and Old Norse wasn't really up to the task of parsing out the rough syllables. Not with what appeared to be hundreds of eyes turning to him. 

Loki was standing in front of the throne, back straight and head – Tom could tell, even from a distance – held high in defiance. He was the only one who didn't turn towards the now opened doors; even the guards to either side of Loki had turned to look. 

"What is this interruption?" Odin demanded, voice booming out over the hall, easily travelling to where Tom and Thor stood at the opposite end of the room. 

"You gave me leave to find someone willing and able to speak in Loki's defence," Thor returned, voice equally as carrying. "I have done so." He started walking down the hall towards the throne, a careful hand on Tom's arm drawing him along with. 

God, that was a lot of people. 

"And what right does a _mortal_ claim to act as the prisoner's voice?" Odin demanded. 

Loki shifted at the word 'mortal', but didn't turn to look. Tom wondered what was going through his head, what theories he was concocting behind green eyes hardened by the fear Tom knew he must be feeling. Would he guess that Thor would find _him_? Would he think, as he all too often did, that Tom would be unwilling to drop _everything_ to help him, just because Loki needed someone there? 

Loki was a study in opposition; ever trapped between demanding the fealty of those around him, and disbelieving such could ever be given to him. It drove Tom _mad_.

"Loki is my lover," Tom called once they were close enough that he knew his voice would carry. 

Loki's head twisted to look behind him at last, his eyes betraying his shock and terror for but a moment before they iced back over with the protective blankness he had mastered long before Tom had been born. Tom saw the change only because he'd been watching for it. Only when the blankness returned to Loki's eyes did he realise how they'd chosen to silence the God of Lies: His lips were sewn together. 

"Thor," Tom breathed, feeling sick. The Thunderer had said _silenced_ , not... _this_.

But Thor, too, had stopped, staring at the twine keeping Loki's mouth closed. He looked up at Odin, eyes a naked wound, and called, "What treatment is this for Asgard's second prince?" 

Odin gave no reaction to Thor's words, instead watching Loki's turned head. "Loki keeps many lovers. In what way would _this_ one be so special a one as to give voice to this _traitor_."

Thor tensed, and Tom couldn't say whether it was because of the possibility that Tom would prove useless, or because of the word his father had used for Loki. 

What Thor didn't know – _couldn't_ know – was that Tom had an ace up his sleeve: A spell gone wrong with a solution that Loki would never have reached had it been anyone other than Tom he shared bed with. The assurance, much later, that the only other soul to have been granted such liberties was long since dead, killed by Loki's own hand as reward for taking what had never been their right. 

One moment almost a year ago, one Loki swore would never be repeated, but no one in Asgard needed to know that; Tom might be shit at lying, but he was more than capable of stretching the truth. "Loki lets me take him." 

The silence was deafening, and Odin finally turned his stare on Tom, searching for the lie. 

Tom met his stare and refused to falter. 

Something in Odin's stare changed, and a sense of dread blanketed Tom just before the AllFather said, "Indeed? Then may you do so now, to prove your claim." 

_'In **here**?'_ Tom almost exclaimed, flushing. He was no exhibitionist – made a point to _avoid_ having his personal life spread all over the tabloids – and Loki... Loki would _never_ agree. 

The rattle of chains caught Tom's attention and he locked eyes with his lover. Loki's emotions were still hidden away, but he was beckoning Tom forward. There was a hesitation to the motion that could easily have been due to the chains forcing his hands to remain near his waist, but which Tom suspected was actually a tell of how scared he was. Either way, Tom threw all decorum out the window and made quick work of the dozen or so metres separating them. 

As soon as he could, Tom brought his hands up to bracket Loki's face, hiding his eyes from the hundreds of people watching him, looking for even a single moment's weakness. Loki took the chance offered and dropped his walls, meeting Tom's gaze with a stare that was half terror, half a very obvious, 'GO. HOME.'

"No," Tom whispered, voice firm. "I'm leaving with you, or not at all." 

'IDIOT,' Loki's eyes said. 

Tom smiled and raised his head to press a kiss against the tip of Loki's nose, unwilling to chance hurting him by kissing his mouth. "I love you." 

Loki's eyes fell closed and his hands finally fisted in Tom's costume, grip tight enough that Tom could feel the tug of it in the fabric. Silent acceptance of Tom's presence. (Or so he told himself, at least.) 

"I'm sorry," Tom whispered. 

Loki peeked out at him then, searching his face for something that Tom hoped he was providing. Some reassurance that Tom meant no harm, perhaps, or a promise that this outcome had _never_ been his intention. 

Whatever it was, he seemed to find it, for he let out a rush of air through his nose, then closed his eyes and gave a barely-there nod of his head. 

To Tom, the permission felt far too resigned, and he couldn't bear the thought of Loki allowing what was, for him, a nearly unthinkable act, in silence. "In _here_?" he breathed against the god's lips. 

Loki's eyes opened, confusion brightening the familiar green. 

"With all these people watching?" Tom added, clarifying his complaint. 

Loki's face twitched like it wanted to smile, but daren't, for fear of further damage to his mouth. His eyes, though, lit with mischief and he raised one eyebrow, as though to say, 'And you find something wrong with sex in public...why?'

"Oh, yes. I forgot who I was talking to for a minute," Tom muttered, and Loki's eyes danced. "As long as someone leaves insulted, you're happy." 

Loki nudged Tom's nose with his. 

"Don't even lie," Tom returned, familiar enough with that particular false comfort to guess at the meaning. "We both know I'm your favourite victim." 

Loki's face twitched again, suppressing his amusement. But then his eyes slid to one side as the guard there cleared his throat. When he again met Tom's gaze, his eyes said, 'Do it.'

Tom started to pull back before he remembered one very important issue, "Loki, I don't have any lubricant." 

Loki's expression didn't change; he would bear the pain, as he would the public humiliation, stoically. 

Tom pushed their foreheads together hard enough that his own head ached. "I won't hurt you," he breathed. 

Loki's eyes narrowed and he gave Tom a hard stare before yanking his head back and looking to where Thor had remained standing when Tom had run forward. The meaning was clear, 'Do it, or go home.'

Gungir hit against the dais, the sound reverberating around the room and silencing the whispers Tom hadn't even noticed starting up while he'd been speaking with Loki. "Remove the mortal," Odin ordered. "This is clearly another of the prisoner's trick–"

"It's not a _trick_!" Tom shouted, dodging the first guard who grabbed for him, only to walk right into the waiting grasp of another. He knew better than to test his strength against the man, so he instead twisted to glare at Odin and spat, "I won't be made to hurt him for your _sick_ amusement!" 

"Father," Thor pleaded, his tone a stark contrast to Tom's fury. 

Odin made a stopping motion and the guard stopped pulling Tom away from where Loki still stood, expression blank. "Such excuses do not lend your claim credence, mortal. You will prove your claim now, in this chamber, and should the traitor think to push you away to protect some long lost thought of _decency_ –"

"Father, _please_!" Thor called, voice a wreck. 

Tom forced himself to take a breath, centre himself because he needed to put on the best show of his life if he hoped to save Loki. "You misunderstand me, AllFather," he said, voice calm, but with an edge of anger that hopefully hid his desperation. "You, yourself, keep pointing out my mortality; what leads you to believe I would wish to physically hurt my own lover?" Odin looked at him, expression suggesting he had a derogatory reply to that. "I'm not a fighter, AllFather. I panic at the sight of blood, something which drives Prince Loki to madness." 

Stretching the truth again, but it sounded good. And it gave him the chance to remind everyone that it was royalty they had on trial. Odin's eye narrowed, clearly understanding the ulterior motive, but Tom couldn't bring himself to feel anything beyond victory at the hiss of whispers at his words. (Given, the whispers could have just as easily been mocking Tom for his supposed reaction to blood, but he was optimistic by nature.) 

Odin made a negligent motion towards Loki, who let out a muffled noise of shock and stumbled. 

" _Loki_!" Tom shouted, fighting against the arm still holding him in place. _What had Odin done?_

Thor was there to help steady Loki, but the Trickster immediately pulled away, only to overbalance and fall painfully to the ground, unable to catch himself with his hands trapped at his sides. 

The guard finally released Tom and he wasted no time in hurrying to his lover's side. "Lo'," he whispered before gently cupping one cheek. 

Loki didn't pull away from him – rather, he pushed into the touch – and his eyes turned up to Tom. There was a quick show of emotions before they were shut away safely. 

"I don't understand," Tom admitted quietly before gently helping Loki kneel, so he at least had some of his dignity. 

Loki carefully turned and cupped Tom's palm where it had been resting over Loki's own hand, then slowly traced letters against his palm. 

It took Tom twice through before he realised what Loki was trying to tell him and immediately flushed; Odin had cast the preparation spell Loki always used to avoid needing lube. Embarrassing, but, "I'm not sorry." 

Loki rolled his eyes, the most obvious reaction he'd yet given without Tom shielding him. Then he raised an eyebrow and his hand traced up the inside of Tom's thigh as far as he could reach with the chains restricting his movements. A spark of pleasure travelled the rest of the way, vanishing any chance of Tom saying he couldn't perform. 

Tom narrowed his eyes; he knew that spell – had accidentally cast it on Chris, once, because Loki was a creative prick when he got jealous – and he also knew Loki shouldn't have been able to use any magic with the manacles suppressing it. They would be having a talk when they got home, about how much Loki could actually manage while shackled. 

For the moment, however, he had a show to put on – _think of it like a performance and it'll go just fine_ – so he could save Loki's life. Or, at least, get the chance to do so. 

Tom leaned in and pressed a kiss to Loki's nose, one hand slipping to the familiar buckles and snaps of Loki's leathers. The god wasn't even a little interested – if they'd ever needed proof of how little they both wanted to be putting on a show for Asgard, their bodies more than adequately supplied it – but Tom knew his lover, knew how to touch him to give him an erection. Even more, he knew what to _say_ :

"How many times have you imagined masturbating in here, just to embarrassing everyone?" Tom whispered against Loki's ear. The god let out a quiet noise in the back of his throat, hand tightening against Tom's thigh. "Taking some poor fool on the throne, just so you could watch Odin sit there and know what you'd done?" 

Loki let out a sound that was a cross between a groan and a laugh, caught behind his sewn lips, and pushed up and into the hand Tom had wrapped around his member. 

"How many of these people – of these _gods_ – have you fucked?" Tom breathed, using his trump card, even though it was hardly necessary. "How many of them will be _writhing_ with jealousy that it's a _mortal_ you let fuck you?" 

Loki pulled back, eyes burning. But there was no refusal there, only a cruel sort of approval. 

Oh, yes, Tom always knew what to say when it came to Loki. For himself, even, for it was quite the ego-boost to know that he – a mortal actor – had Loki's approval – forced as it was – to take him without fear of retribution. 

Tom didn't move around behind Loki, not yet. Instead, holding Loki's eyes, he slipped his fingers into the god, watching for his reaction (and checking to make sure he was properly prepared, because he wasn't about to trust the man who'd _sewn his son's lips together_ ).

Loki's eyes widened at the intrusion, but he didn't pull away. Rather, he pushed down, against Tom's fingers, seeking more. 

Tom remembered a tail curled around his waist, pulling at him for more even as Loki tried to muffle the needy noises he couldn't keep from making. "I love you," he whispered, as though it was a promise of safety. (For them, it sort of was.) 

Then he moved around behind Loki, moving awkwardly on his knees against the hard floor, but unwilling to climb to his feet for so brief a trip. He carefully separated the trails of Loki's coat and draped it over the chains holding Loki's wrists near his waist. Ostensibly to keep them out of his way, but at least in part to give his lover something to hold on to while also hiding the movements of his hands. 

Tom tugged his trousers and pants down – historical costumes and their lack of flies would be his undoing, at this rate – tried not to think about how he was _mooning Asgard_ , and helped Loki sit up so Tom could comfortably enter him. 

Tom could practically _feel_ Loki trying not to tense at the intrusion. "I've got you," he whispered against the shell of Loki's ear, rubbing his thumbs against the god's hips soothingly. "I'm here and I've got you." 

Loki whined, the sound low and quiet in his throat, intended to be kept just between them. 

Tom pressed his lips against the hinge of Loki's jaw. "You're not alone. Not now. Not any more." 

Chains rattled and Loki's right hand tugged awkwardly at Tom's hand at his hip. Tom let him take his hand and fit their fingers together, squeezing to offer comfort even as he fucked him, moving hard and fast because he knew Loki preferred it that way. (And because, let's be honest here, the sooner this was over, the sooner Tom could take Loki home, safe from Asgard's ever-reaching hatred for its resident Trickster.) 

In spite of the hundreds of eyes on them – or, perhaps, _because_ of them, knowing Loki – the god didn't last long. And Tom, with Loki's magic still boiling his blood, followed right after him, mouth pressed to Loki's shoulder to muffle any noises he might make. 

When Tom pressed a kiss to Loki's cheek as he slipped his lover back into his trousers, the god turned and pressed the twine holding him silent against Tom's own cheek. Tom knew it was really just a way to prove to their audience that he fully accepted Tom's domination, but he took heart in it all the same, as proof that Loki wasn't cross with him for putting him in this position. 

"Very well, mortal," Odin decided, tone bored. "You've proven your claim." He leaned forward, eyes narrowing on Loki. "Will the traitor accept this mortal to speak for him?" 

Loki was still for a moment, and Tom held his breath behind him. At last, though, the god gave a firm nod of his head. 

Odin sighed quietly and sat back in his chair. Behind Tom, Thor let out a relieved sound, clearly revelling in Loki's cooperation. (Tom's emotions were running a similar circuit, honestly.) "Then speak, mortal," Odin ordered. 

Tom slowly stood, helping Loki rise with him and using the time to remember how various lawyers in the law programmes he sometimes watched when there was nothing else on had faced court. They were calm, he knew, and aware of what charges their client was facing right from the start. Tom was already at a disadvantage, but he could fix that. 

Once they were both standing again, Loki's hand caught rather determinately in one of Tom's, he requested, "As I missed the start of this trial, if someone could please tell me what Prince Loki is being charged with?" 

There was a long silence, then a man stepped forward, his stance firm, but something uncertain in his eyes. "Four days hence, my brothers and I were set upon by Jötnar but four leagues from the city, where none have ever been before. The tra–" His voice gave out and he took a moment to clear his throat. "The traitor has allowed Jötnar into Asgard before." His expression turned nasty. "Not that I expect some _mortal_ to know such." 

Tom raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "He's let them in twice, technically. Once during Crown Prince Thor's coronation, the second time while he held the throne. The first time, they were killed by the Destroyer, the second time, they were killed by Heimdall, and their king by Prince Loki himself." He shook his head as the man who had spoken visibly deflated, then turned to his lover. "Four days ago. What does that translate to on Earth?" Because he recalled Loki complaining, once, that time moved faster on Earth than in Asgard. 

Loki shrugged and used his free hand to hold up all five fingers, then close his fist and raise four. 

"About nine days?" Tom translated. 

Loki nodded. 

Tom hummed as he thought back. That had been about the time Tom had been leaving for the film he was currently working on. The day before had been spent dragging Loki all over London with Tom's friends, just because he could (and he knew Loki would hate every moment), then been pretty much trapped in bed from the moment they got home, Loki making him miss his flight as retribution for being made to spend a day with other mortals. After he'd teleported Tom and his belongings to the filming site, he'd stuck around to help Tom settle in and allowed himself to be dragged along on a tour of the location and the nearby town. Once they'd started filming (probably about six days ago, by Tom's figuring), Loki had become a bit scarce, but that was normal for him. 

Still, during the time around the Jötunn attack, Tom knew where Loki was. 

"It couldn't have been Prince Loki," he informed everyone, turning to look at Odin. "He was with me." 

"And how sure are you of that, mortal?" Odin returned. 

"Are you suggesting I can't tell the difference between Loki and his clones?" Tom shot right back, having expected that line of attack. 

"I can't," Thor commented, then grimaced as he realised that wasn't, really, helpful. 

Loki turned a disgusted look on his brother, but Tom just sighed and said, "Of course you can't. You aren't constantly touching him." Which wasn't the most accurate way to tell when Loki was using a clone, but Tom wasn't about to give away his secrets, not when it meant Loki would find a way around them; he _liked_ being able to tell his lover and his clones apart. 

Thor frowned in thought, and Tom left him to consider that while he turned back to Odin. "Prince Loki was with me for the five Earth days before and during the attack. It was absolutely him, not one of his clones. Unless you want to insist he set this up more than a day before the attack – which, given, is possible, but I doubt many Jötnar can spend that much time in Asgard without someone noticing – it _cannot have been Prince Loki_."

"And we're just supposed to take you at your word," someone called. 

"You're taking _him_ at his word!" Tom snapped, pointing towards Loki's accuser. "Not _even_ at his word, for that matter, unless he or one of his brothers have _proof_ that Prince Loki was involved. This is all just contempt playing at legality. There are three people in Asgard right now who actually _like_ Prince Loki, and I know at least one of them was told he couldn't speak in his defence!" He waved a hand towards Thor. "I'll bet you denied Queen Frigga the same right," he added, eyes narrowed on Odin. "The _only_ reason I get the chance, is because you didn't think I would be any use to him. But I am _not_ going to let you punish _my lover_ for something **he didn't do**.

"You can take your Goddamned, self-important bigotry and shove it up your arse." 

"You _dare_ –" Odin started before the sound of metal shattering made his gaze jerk towards Loki. 

Loki, who was quite comfortably wrapping his arms around Tom's chest. Tom didn't need to look to know that Loki would be smirking – twine or no, the idiot god could never resist the urge to rub in his victory. 

"Yes," Tom said drily as green magic lit him and Loki both, "I dare. Someone around here needs to." 

As soon as they were back on Earth – their home, Tom recognised – he spun and poked Loki's chest. "Oh my _God_ , Loki! You couldn't have teleported us out of there sooner?!" 

Loki snorted and raised an eyebrow at him. 

Tom sighed and reached up to wipe at the streaks of blood marking the pale skin of his lover's chin. "I can't believe you sometimes. Let's get those out, and then you can tell me how much magic you can actually manage in those cuffs they keep using on you. Arse." 

Loki chuckled, chest and shoulders shaking with it, and let Tom lead him into the kitchen. 

Tom suspected he wasn't going to be getting an answer, but with Loki safe at home for the moment, he wasn't sure he cared.

.


	25. Petplay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Petplay (one member acting/being treated like an animal), themes of dub-con and Stockholm syndrome, Jötunn!Loki, mention of past suicide attempt, minor character death, AU, hurt/comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is a terrifying place, sometimes. ^.^"

Loki groaned and turned over, curling closer to the living heater that slept with him every night. His pet let out a little whine of discontent and shoved at Loki's knees, a sure sign that the spell keeping him from freezing to death was starting to fade. "Bollocks," Loki complained, borrowing one of his pet's favourite curses. 

His pet whined again and shifted, this time moving closer to Loki. 

Loki sighed and ran his fingers through the curly hair, taking a moment to enjoy the way it embraced his hand and didn't want to let go. His pet sighed in pleasure and murmured, "Good morning, Master." 

"Good morning, my Thomas." Loki rubbed the nape of the human's neck, smiling when he let out a quiet rumble, almost like the purr he'd described animals of his realm having. "Why is it, I wonder, that your spells always wear off so fast." 

Blue eyes the same shade as Loki's skin blinked up at him, innocent at a quick glance. His pet was so good at false faces, but he was not a false creature by nature, not like Loki, and his lies – and false faces – fell apart quickly under scrutiny. "I don't know, Master," he said, blinking a little too rapidly, corner of his mouth fighting to rise in a smile. "Perhaps, Master, you simply fu–"

"You have a truly dirty mouth," Loki interrupted, knowing where his pet was going. "And a dirty mind." 

Thomas' mouth lost the battle and he grinned, wide and bright and nothing like how he'd appeared twelve years ago, when Laufey had presented the mortal to his eldest son. A bribe, of sorts, to give up the right of ascension to Helblindi. As though Loki had ever, truly, been interested in attempting to rule a people who saw him as little better than the Æsir they had brought to ruin almost two millennia ago. He much preferred the shadows, where he could sneak, unnoticed, and whisper all he heard in the ear of the one who sat in the throne. 

Loki shook his thoughts away and tapped a finger on the underside of his pet's chin, not quite touching the collar his spells were tied to. "Sit up, you wretch. Let me see if I can figure out what's wrong." 

His pet shuffled up into a kneeling position in front of Loki, blue eyes down-turned respectfully, but chin up so Loki could access his collar. 

Loki paused long enough to wrap a thick fur around Thomas, then pressed the release for the collar. Thomas immediately let out a whimper and began to shiver, tugging the fur closer around himself. Still, he didn't move from the position he'd taken, and Loki knew he'd have to decide on a sufficient reward later. 

For the moment, he gave the collar a quick inspection, looking for any sign of breakage in the shaped ice. Finding none, he checked the runes carved along the outer edges, ensuring they hadn't been melted by the constant contact with the human's warm skin, or scratched from some accident Thomas hadn't mentioned to him for whatever reason he thought was a good one that time. 

But everything was whole. Loki sighed and shook his head, eternally bemused by the fact that he had to reapply Thomas' protection twice as often as any of the other humans kept in Jötunheimr. Perhaps his pet was correct, and it was his constant contact – sexual or otherwise – with the greatest sorcerer in all the Nine Realms that kept wearing the spell down. 

Loki reapplied the spell and quickly clipped the collar back around Thomas' throat, taking care to ensure it rested in the exact spot as before, so he didn't have difficulty swallowing, as he had before Loki had found the correct shape and position for it. 

The effect was immediate, as Thomas stopped his shivering and let the fur fall. He still held his position, and Loki smirked at him before running blue fingers down his chest. "Are you warm enough, my pet?" he murmured. 

"Yes, Master," his pet replied. 

"Mm. I'm afraid I had that off for longer than I'd intended. Perhaps I should ensure you aren't in danger of losing any important parts." He flicked a nipple. 

Thomas gasped and quickly tilted his head down so he could glance up at Loki through the curls that hung down over his eyes. "If Master believes that to be the best," he agreed. 

Loki took a moment to consider how he wanted his pet, then climbed off the bed and ordered, "Come. Stand before me here." 

His pet shuffled off the bed, movements jerky in a manner that concerned Loki, until he noticed the tellingly red shade the head of Thomas' member bore. Ah, his pet was so easy to entice to pleasure; Loki delighted in it. 

Once Thomas was standing before him – legs spread, hands holding his elbows behind his back, and head bowed, as he'd been trained – Loki stepped around behind him, trailing one hand along his chest and down his arm. When he reached the fingers held tight around his elbow, Loki carefully pulled them away and sucked the first one into his mouth. 

Thomas let out a helpless gasp before his jaw tightened, determined to keep from making any other noises. (Again, as he'd been trained.) 

Loki took care to suck on each of his pet's fingers. Ostensibly to ensure they hadn't suffered any frostbite, though they both knew that wasn't possible. 

In truth, between the golden apple Loki had force fed Thomas during their first week – after he'd caught the mortal purposefully causing an accident that could have ended in his or another pet's death, if not for Loki's intervention – and the spells woven into the collar to keep frostbite from ever being a concern, there was no reason for Loki to check him over. But Loki enjoyed the little noises he could sometimes get past Thomas' training, not to mention the honest _joy_ Thomas showed at being paid attention to. (Times like that, he loved and hated the pet training, for it ensured they would think they weren't worth the spells cast on their collars to keep them alive, let alone the sort of affection Loki enjoyed bestowing on his Thomas when no one was there to see.) 

Loki was just moving to check Thomas' toes, ducking his excited member, when a chime sounded around the room. "Curses," Loki snarled as Thomas immediately dropped to his knees next to Loki and curled against him, hiding from whoever had tripped Loki's warning spells. 

A Jötunn stopped just beyond the gauzy curtains that were as close to a door as one could find in Jötunheimr. They couldn't quite be seen through, but one could get a general idea of whom or what lay on the other side. "Sorcerer Prince Loki," a deep voice intoned, unfamiliar and using Loki's full title, as no one in his family would. 

Loki sighed and stood. He waited until Thomas had shifted at his feet – pressed tight against his leg and attempting to watch everything that was happening without anyone realising he wasn't staring at his hands on the floor, like he should had been – then motioned for the curtains to open, giving him an unobstructed view of one of the throne room guards. Loki raised an eyebrow at that, ignored the way the guard glanced down his naked form, and demanded, "What do you want? I have better things to do than pander to the idiotic needs of every fool come begging my father's assistance." 

The guard swallowed, throat bobbing tellingly. "Highness, his Majesty is requesting your prese–"

"Did you _not_ hear what I just said?" Loki demanded, voice sharp and hard in a way he'd never use on his pet. But, then again, Thomas listened to him. 

The guard flinched and looked away. "Forgive me, Highness, but my orders–"

"What care have _I_ for your orders?" 

At Loki's feet, Thomas shifted, his shoulder nudging against Loki's leg. Thomas was far too well trained for that to have been an accident, and Loki took it as the chastisement it was meant as; perhaps he wouldn't be rewarding Thomas for good behaviour later, after all. 

"You have three minutes to explain why I care about my father's request before I turn you into a trout and enjoy your innards for breakfast." 

The guard swallowed again. "Highness, it is not King Laufey who requests you, but King-Second Fárbauti. King Laufey fell in the middle of speaking." 

Loki's eyes narrowed. "And the healers? I do hope my father was not so dull as to skip over them to send for me." 

"They are at an impasse, Highness." 

Loki set his mouth into a thin line and glanced down at his pet, nudging him with his leg. "My robes." 

The guard drew in a sharp breath, earning him a glare from Loki as Thomas hurried to obey. Loki knew exactly why the guard was surprised; it was hardly a rule that pets weren't to be allowed to touch clothing, but it was rather firmly suggested masters keep them away from any thought that they might clothe themselves and walk free. And while Loki had held to that suggestion for many years, he trusted Thomas, now. 

Not one to let Loki down, Thomas quickly returned with the clothing necessary for Loki to show up in the Throne Room. He didn't provide any more assistance than to hold everything as Loki swiftly dressed, but Loki had hardly expected him to. 

Once clothed, Loki gave a gentle tug to one of his pet's curls, making the human look up at him. "Do I need to leash you? Or can you stay at my side?" 

Thomas immediately shook his head, eyes darkening with disgust for the leash. "No, Master. I'll stay with you." 

Loki hummed and ran his hand through Thomas' hair. "See that you do," he murmured before pulling away and turning to leave. 

Thomas fell in next to him, crawling at Loki's pace with the ease borne of years of practise. (And if Loki moved a little bit slower to accommodate Thomas, well, it was hardly like any of his large brethren could tell what his normal speed was, given how much quicker they could move than him.) 

They found the Throne Room in chaos. And not even the fun chaos that Loki liked to cause when he was bored, but the sort that made stepping within for someone Loki or Thomas' size truly treacherous. 

"I could carry you, Highness?" the guard uncertainly offered once he'd realised why the two smaller beings had stopped in the doorway. 

Loki snarled and made a sweeping gesture with one hand. Everyone he was not either related to or was a healer was thrown against the far wall and held there under a net of green magic. The guard that had brought Loki and Thomas was out of the line of fire, and he quickly took two steps away from Loki, as though afraid of the amount of power he had contained in his small frame. 

Loki ignored him, instead stepping into the room, Thomas moving quietly at his side. 

"Good of you to finally join us," Helblindi snapped once Loki had stepped up beside his brother. 

Loki levelled an unimpressed stare at him, then turned the same on Fárbauti. "If Father is unable to see to the rabble, one of you two must. Or are you so blinded by his plight that you didn't notice others running around and keeping me from entering the room?" 

Fárbauti and Helblindi both looked up in surprise. Their eyes widened nearly in tandem when they noticed the caged Jötnar against the far wall. 

"Get out of my way before I send you that way in the same manner," Loki snarled. 

The two hurried to their feet and moved towards their people to calm the panic, leaving Loki, Thomas, Býleistr and the other healers to discover what was wrong with Laufey. 

-0-

Laufey's death was announced as the weak Jötunheimr sun fell below the ice mountain. They were able to discern it was a poison that had killed him, one delivered with his morning meal. By the time he had fallen in the Throne Room, it had been far too late to save him. 

A hunt for the murderer began almost as soon as the cause of illness had been announced, long before Laufey's official time of death. The first and only time someone had thought to suggest that Thomas – sitting silently at Loki's feet without a word of complaint for the meals both he and Loki were missing due to this drama – might have been the murderer, Loki quietly informed the guard he was wrong. When the guard pushed it, Loki grabbed Býleistr's forgotten sword, hefted it with surprising ease, and cut off the guard's hand. 

Over his howling, Loki ordered, "Leave. Before I pick another target." 

Only after Laufey was declared dead and Loki had been forced to sit down and eat – not even bothering to pretend at least half his plate was being passed to his pet – did Býleistr enquire, "Why so certain it wasn't your pet? It's not like you ever tie it up." 

The 'like you should' was left unsaid, though very much understood. 

Loki raised an eyebrow at his brother. "What need have I for leashes when I can leave alarm spells along my hallway and across the door?" Which, he didn't, but he was a light sleeper, certain to wake up if Thomas tried getting out of bed. Not that it was any business of his brother's where his pet slept. 

Býleistr had sighed, defeated by Loki's magic – most were – and changed the subject to the likely species of the murderer. 

-0-

Loki didn't return to his room for two days, forced to assist in tracking the murderer once the Áss murderer managed to flee the city. Thomas, in turn, was forced to remain in Loki's room for the entirety, disallowed to follow Loki on the hunt, as he would only prove a liability out in the frozen wastes. 

When Loki finally returned to his room, temper fraying as much as his clothing, he found Thomas curled up in the centre of the bed, tip of his nose just touching Loki's pillow, as though he'd fallen asleep as close to Loki's scent as he was allowed to get. 

Loki stood in the doorway for a long moment and simply stared at his pet, the irritation and fury that had been warring within him for the past two days melting away to exhaustion. "Thomas," he whispered and started towards the bed, a simple flick of his fingers vanishing his ruined clothing and sending his jewellery back to its home. When he reached the bed, he ran his fingers lightly along the unblemished skin of his pet's leg. 

Thomas let out a quiet groan and cracked his eyes open. He stared up at Loki for a moment before jerking up and wrapping his arms around Loki's middle, pressing his face to Loki's stomach. "Master!" he called, relief and happiness in the word. 

Loki stared down at his curly hair for a long moment before bending over so he could press his nose to Thomas' back, breathing him in. He smelled of home and unconditional love. He smelled of freedom from the silent expectations Fárbauti had for Loki as an informant, or Helblindi had for him as a miracle worker. 

"Master?" Thomas whispered, concern in his voice. 

Loki pulled back so he could sink to his knees next to the bed and cup his pet's face. "Oh, my sweet, sweet Thomas," he murmured, staring into those worried blue eyes. "I have missed you so–" His voice cracked and he closed his eyes against the frozen tears he had only just realised were slipping down his cheeks. 

"Master, what has happened? Are you hurt?" Hands traced over Loki's arms, his shoulder, his torso and back, searching for wounds that weren't there. "Did he get away? Master? Master, are you–?"

Loki pulled Thomas' mouth to his, the only certain way of halting the babble of concern. Thomas melted into the kiss, his wandering hands coming to rest on Loki's shoulders, steadying them both. Only with Thomas so calmed, did Loki pull away enough to whisper, "I'm just tired, my pet." 

_Tired of being so much smaller than everyone else. Tired of having to prove myself capable with magic better served in other manners. Tired of people looking to me for miracles. Tired of always being on the defensive._

Thomas pulled back, hands sliding down Loki's arms to his hands and using them to pull the Jötunn after him, onto the bed. "Lay down, Master." 

Loki sighed, but followed the direction, trusting Thomas. And, honestly, laying down sounded like a lovely idea. When he tried to lay on his side, however, Thomas pushed him onto his back, and Loki glared at him. " _Thomas_ ," he warned. 

Thomas shook his head, stubborn. "Let me help." 

Loki closed his eyes and rubbed at them. "Curse it all, Thomas. I just want to sleep." 

He opened his eyes when he sensed someone leaning over him and found Thomas looking down at him, wearing the most outrageous pout. He was helpless against it, letting out a groan in lieu of the smile that wanted to show. " _Fine_ ," he groused. "Have it your way." 

"Thank you, Master." Thomas smiled and ducked away. 

Loki really wasn't certain what his pet had in mind until a warm tongue licked along his member. " _Thomas_ ," he complained, because he wanted _sleep_ , not sex. 

One of Thomas' hands slid down Loki's leg to his foot, where it began firmly rubbing away the ache of running across the harsh tundra they'd had to cross in pursuit of Laufey's murderer. Thomas' second hand joined his first shortly, doubling the effectiveness of his massage, and Loki groaned in pleasure. 

After the first foot, Thomas massaged Loki's other foot, then his calves, then his thighs. By the time he got there, Loki was loose and not the least bit interested in complaining when Thomas licked his member to attention. 

"Ah!" Loki cried when Thomas' impossibly warm mouth was suddenly surrounding him. He glanced down his body to find those bright blue eyes peeking up at him, glinting with victory. Loki reached up and twisted a hand in the human's curls, fisting them as tight as he could in punishment. 

Thomas' eyes continued gleaming with victory, even as Loki held his head in place and fucked up into him hard enough to cause them to water. 

Trust Loki's pet to consider being used for Loki's frustration-fuelled pleasure a victory. 

When Loki came, he held Thomas' head in place, refusing to let him go until he'd swallowed everything that didn't escape through the corners of his mouth. And, once Loki did let him go, Thomas wasted no time in cleaning up the last of Loki's spend with his tongue. 

Once Loki was clean, Thomas curled up next to him. He made no complaint at Loki turning onto his side, only reached up and kneaded his hand against the skin over Loki's heart, a peculiar little habit that he'd started doing not long after Loki had started letting his pet sleep in his bed with him during the night. He took it as a sign of affection, for Thomas only did it when he was content. 

"Spoiled," he murmured to his pet, draping an arm over him. 

Thomas hummed an agreement. "No bad dreams." 

Loki almost missed the connection between that non sequitur and Thomas' determination to make him relax as much as possible. But connect it did, and he let out a tired laugh before ducking his head and pressing a kiss to his pet's curls. "Thank you," he whispered, quiet enough that they could both pretend he hadn't spoken. 

Thomas' only response was to curl as close as he could without having to move his hand from over Loki's heart. 

Loki took that as a 'you're welcome'.

.


	26. Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Jötunn!Loki, hurt/comfort, body hatred, AU, Loki is really bad at refusing Tom (or Tom is just bad at listening when Loki attempts to push him away; he learnt from the best)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally started writing this for day 28, before realising the direction this was heading was more proper for today. Which I...hadn't started writing yet. (I wrote these so out of order.)
> 
> If I could dedicate specific days to people, this one would be for DarkFlowerDreaming. She knows why.

"Loki? Are you okay down there?" 

Loki stared down at his blue hands, feeling more than a little horrified. He tried changing them back to their normal colour for the second time, but they remained as they were. 

"Loki?" The landing at the top of the stairs creaked. 

Loki jerked in surprise and looked towards the stairs. Thomas couldn't see. He _couldn't_! He would hate Loki and throw him out and he'd be alone and looking like a monster and– "I'm fine," he croaked, but his voice sounded all wrong, like it had been dragged across asphalt. 

Footsteps started down the stairs. "Darling, you sound like you've got a sore throat." 

Loki's eyes shot around the room, trying to find a place where he could hide. His eyes caught on the cupboard under the stairs and he stumbled to his feet and yanked the door open. "I'm fine!" he shouted before ducking inside and closing it behind him. 

There was a thump as Thomas stepped off the last stair, gravity always causing him to step just the littlest bit heavier. There followed a heavy silence, then Thomas drily commenting, "You're so 'fine', you're hiding from me. You know I won't be angry if you've broken something." 

Loki held his silence. He knew what the human was trying to do. 

Thomas sighed. "Did you hurt yourself? Did you give yourself a cold? Did you accidentally summon a demon from Hell and it's flying to do unspeakable things to Big Ben as I spe–"

"What the–" Loki covered his mouth as he realised that he'd just given his position away. 

The cupboard door pulled open and he found himself staring into worried blue eyes. Thomas didn't reach out to touch him, but he didn't recoil in horror, either. "Are you hurt at all?" he requested, voice gentle. 

Loki shook his head, confused. That...wasn't the response he'd expected. Unless he'd changed back? He pulled his hands away from his mouth to look at them. 

"You're still a Jötunn, love," Thomas murmured, holding out a hand. "Come here. Can I touch you?" 

Loki stared at him in disbelief. Thomas knew what he was? And he wasn't running away? "What?" he croaked. 

Thomas held his gaze. "Is your skin going to hurt me if I touch you?" 

Loki shook his head. 

"Okay. Good." Gentle hands wrapped around Loki's wrists and tugged lightly. "Come on. Let me make sure you're not hurt." 

"I'm _not_ ," Loki insisted, but he let Thomas lead him out of the cupboard and into the late afternoon light coming in through the windows. 

"You'll forgive me if I'm disinclined to trust anything you say regarding your state of being right now," Thomas returned drily before letting go of Loki's wrists to gently feel along his arms, shoulders, and the back of his head. "What did you do, anyway? I heard a crash." 

Loki glanced towards the television, which he'd thrown a pillow at hard enough to knock it off the wall. He'd fixed it, but the television had shocked him when he'd walked over to hang it back on the wall, and he'd changed. 

Thomas' gaze followed his, then came back to rest on Loki. "Clearly you fixed it, whatever it was." Thomas' hands moved forward, through Loki's hair, and his thumbs brushed against the corners of his eyes. "Your brother–"

Loki hissed. No matter how hard he tried to get the mortal to stop, Thomas persisted in referring to Thor as his brother. 

Thomas levelled a tired look at him. "He told me about your origins, and that you didn't know what you were until a few days before you ran away. He said his people..." He grimaced, clearly uncertain how to phrase the words in a manner that would be insulting to the fewest number of people possible. 

"The Æsir's stories treat the Jötnar as monsters to be feared and murdered on sight," Loki supplied in a monotone. 

Thomas sighed. "Not how I would have put it." 

Loki snarled and pulled away from the gentle hands. "I know how you would have put it. Well, you needn't worry about insulting anyone here, because there's no one who's feelings matter. _Certainly_ not the mon–"

Thomas' hand covered his mouth and the mortal sighed. "God, Loki. Stop for a moment, won't you?" He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the tip of Loki's nose. "What makes you think I would want to hurt the feelings of the man I love?" 

Loki pulled away and quickly put some distance between them, pointing a shaking hand at the mortal. "Don't. Don't do that. Not now. Not when I'm– When I look like some sort of– of–"

"You look like you," Thomas said quietly, not moving from where Loki had left him, but watching as the god twisted his hands together in agitation. "Slightly different colour scheme, and with a couple added features, but you certainly haven't taken on the form of something out of a horror film." 

Loki let out a strained laugh, looking towards the bookcase of DVDs and blu-rays. "You'd know, wouldn't you? Seen all the monsters. Even the ones who look exactly like you until that moment they're bearing down on you with the bloody knife in one hand and murder in their eyes–"

"I can get you a knife, if it would make you feel better." 

Loki stared at him, aghast. 

Thomas sighed and finally started moving towards Loki again, hands held out in a non-threatening manner. As though _he_ was the one to be feared. As though he thought Loki _afraid_ of him. 

In truth, Loki was, a little. Afraid that Thomas would love him, in spite of his monstrosity. Afraid that the mortal would touch him, would be gentle when Loki knew he deserved the worst things in the world for what he was. He didn't want to be coddled, to be loved. He needed to be _hated_! He needed Thomas to revile him, as all should! As all _did_!

"You know Christmas is my favourite time of year," Thomas said out of nowhere. 

Loki blinked. "Yes?" he replied, confused. Of course he knew. He'd been forced to assist with the preparations the last two years, always wearing the hat the mortal had bought, which had been branded with the word 'Grinch'. (Loki liked the hat, though he'd turned it green, because he refused to wear red, even for Thomas.) 

Thomas smiled and touched two fingers to just under Loki's left eye. "That is a stunning shade of red I didn't have to force you into." 

Loki choked, not sure if he wanted to sob or laugh. Because that was just so... So _Thomas_.

Thomas' smile widened and he cupped Loki's cheek. "Hello there, lover." 

Loki gave in, curling around his idiotic mortal and hiding his face against his shoulder. "You were supposed to run," he whispered against the ripped collar of Thomas' favourite shirt. (The one he always wore for three days straight, following the successful completion of a show's run, as though the ragged thing was his prize for a job well done. Loki loved and hated the thing, would wear it when one of Thomas' performances went on tour outside on the UK, for all that Loki was more than capable of teleporting after his lover, passport or no.) 

Thomas sighed and kissed Loki's neck, shivering slightly from the chill. "Why would I run from you? I love you, you great looby." 

"You shouldn't," Loki muttered. 

Thomas pulled away, scowling. "Explain what you mean by that so I can decide if I need to smack you or not." 

Loki snorted; Thomas wouldn't hit him, was constantly afraid Loki had hurt himself one way or another. He waved at himself. "Who would love _this_?"

Thomas' expression went worryingly blank and he grabbed Loki's wrist in a grip that was surprisingly tight. "Come with me. Right now." 

Flummoxed by this odd turn in his usually gentle lover, Loki allowed himself to be led upstairs and into the bedroom. He baulked, though, when Thomas tried pulling him in front of the full length mirror. "What are you doing?" 

"I am showing you exactly what there is to love. Come here." 

Loki shook his head and shot the mirror a glare. There was no way he wanted to see how monstrous he looked. He'd seen enough Jötnar to know how he would appear. 

"Come here, or you're sleeping on the couch until after my next show run," Thomas ordered. 

Something in his gaze told Loki the mortal would actually hold to that promise. He'd been banished to the couch before, and it was actually _worse_ than Mother's disappointed stare. "Fine," he snarled and stepped forward to stand in front of the mirror, closing his eyes. 

Thomas sighed as he stepped up behind Loki, wrapping his arms around his stomach and resting his chin on Loki's shoulder. "You are being deliberately impossible. Open your eyes." 

"No." 

Thomas sighed again, then slipped his hands under Loki's shirt to splay over his stomach. "I'll molest you if you don't." 

Loki snorted. "You won't." 

Thomas turned his head and licked at the skin beneath Loki's ear, breath impossibly hot against Loki's cold skin. "I absolutely will. You know I can't keep my hands off you." One of his hands deftly undid the button of Loki's trousers. 

Loki snorted, trying to hide the way his breath had caught. "Even now? Perhaps you need corrective lenses." 

"Open your eyes," Thomas whispered over the sound of Loki's flies. 

Loki did so, but only to save Thomas from this farce. 

But the face that he found in the mirror looked nothing like the craggy faces of other Jötnar. Rather, as Thomas had said, he looked exactly like himself, just blue and with eyes the exact shade of Thomas' favourite precious stone. 

He met Thomas' eyes in the mirror, absently noting that his skin was the same shade of blue as Thomas' eyes appeared to be in the current light. "Hello, lover," the mortal murmured, smiling. 

"Hello," Loki replied, voice cracking. 

Thomas tilted his head to kiss Loki's neck, continuing to hold his gaze in the mirror. "You're completely gorgeous, you know." 

Loki swallowed and put forth a challenge, "You don't know that." 

Thomas' eyes glinted and his hands brushed up Loki's abdomen to his chest, the god's shirt rucking up around his arms. "Then prove me wrong." 

Loki paused for a moment, debating, then nodded. "Go on." 

Thomas flashed him a bright smile before pulling back enough to remove Loki's shirt. "Mm," he breathed in Loki's ear as he pressed against the god's back again, the shirt hitting the floor somewhere off to the side, "I'm not seeing a single thing I don't like." 

Loki huffed a laugh, eyes tracing over the raised lines across his chest and between the definition of his abdomen. 

Thomas' fingers slipped around his sides and traced along the lines. "They're on your back, too," he commented. "They look like human tribal tattoos." 

"They're not tattoos," Loki insisted, though he honestly had no idea if they were or not. 

Thomas hummed. "They're certainly lacking the ink we use." His fingers stopped at the waistband of Loki's trousers. "I wonder if they're on your cock." 

Loki's breath caught at the hunger in his mortal's tone. "Thomas," he warned, as though that would do _anything_ to stop the man. 

Thomas' eyes glinted like he had no intention of heeding Loki, but he still pushed out his bottom lip in a pout. "Is that a no? Do I need to leave so you can check without me and refuse to tell me one way or the other? You're breaking my heart, Loki." 

Loki groaned. "You're impossible." 

Thomas grinned and whispered, "I bet they're on your arse," into Loki's ear before pushing down his trousers. 

Loki couldn't help the way his gaze immediately landed on his cock. It was the same shade of blue as the rest of him, the same raised lines curling around it, though they were much closer together than anywhere else. 

"They're on your arse," Thomas murmured as his hands curled around Loki's hips and felt down to his thighs, thumbs brushing just close enough to Loki's cock to catch its interest. 

"No," Loki ordered. 

"I'm not doing anything," Thomas promised, even as his thumbs traced along the lines that marked his thighs, coming dangerously close to where Loki's cock was waking up. 

Loki closed his eyes against the inevitable. "Why?" he asked, half expecting something trite or teasing in response. 

Thomas' hands left him entirely and he felt the human walking around to stand between him and the mirror, the warmth of his skin serving as a surprisingly accurate guide to his position. When Loki opened his eyes to look at his mortal, he found Thomas wearing a serious expression. 

"Why?" the mortal repeated gently. "Because you're beautiful and you deserve to have someone love you, to _know_ I love you, no matter how you appear, no matter what others may think of your appearance. No matter what _you_ may think of your appearance." He gently cupped Loki's face as he stared back at him, liquid springing to his eyes at the utter honestly in the words. "I love you, Loki." 

When Thomas leaned in to kiss him, Loki reached up and grabbed a hold of the back of his _stupid_ shirt and pulled him close, squeezing his eyes shut to keep his tears locked away. Norns, what had he done to deserve this impossible mortal? How many good deeds would he need to perform to ever _possibly_ be worthy of the love Thomas so unquestioningly bestowed upon him? 

"Let me love you?" Thomas whispered against his lips. 

Loki opened his eyes and felt a tear escape, icing against his skin before it had passed his mouth. Thomas wiped it away without comment, not looking away from Loki's eyes. "Yes," he whispered back. 

Thomas' smile was like the sun breaking through the clouds after days of rain, and Loki felt rather like the Grinch in that stupid cartoon Thomas had made him watch, his heart growing inexplicably larger in his chest. 

Thomas slowly sank to his knees, holding Loki's wide eyes as he kissed the tip of his cock, then took it into his mouth. Loki groaned at the excessive heat, steadying himself with a hand on Thomas' shoulder. 

The mortal's eyes closed, expression elated, as he pulled back enough to swirl his tongue around Loki's head, teasing it the rest of the way out from behind the foreskin before carefully taking as much as he could and swallowing around Loki. 

Loki swallowed himself, watching Thomas work him, only distantly aware of his arousal building. The mortal never bobbed his head – insisted it looked undignified, with his curls – but, rather, used his tongue and a faint scrape of teeth – once he'd realised Loki liked that – to bring pleasure to the god. 

Blue eyes opened and locked with Loki's gaze again. And, as though that connected a circuit, Loki's was suddenly aware of his arousal. He nearly stumbled with the shock of it, grabbing for Thomas' other shoulder to steady himself. 

Thomas pulled his mouth off with an obscene pop, one hand taking over and pumping Loki roughly. "Look at you," he murmured, eyes tracing over Loki's face, pausing on his mouth, which Loki hadn't even realised was opened and letting out a faint, needy whine. Thomas smiled knowingly when Loki forced his mouth closed. " _Look_ at you," he repeated before turning his head to look over his shoulder at the mirror. 

Unable to help himself, Loki followed the mortal's gaze. 

In the mirror he found himself standing over Thomas, the pink of his skin and gold of his hair contrasting against the blue of Loki's skin and the tuft of black curls at the base of his cock. Blue eyes glinted at him knowingly before they turned away and Loki felt the all-encompassing wet warmth of his mouth replace his hand, teeth catching against the raised lines. 

Loki looked up his own body, landing on his face. Noticing his mouth had fallen back open – so that was the noise he'd been hearing again – and that his pupils – a darker red, rather than proper black – had blown wide, nearly taking the place of his irises. 

"You're beautiful," Thomas said and Loki looked back down at him, reading the sincerity in his eyes, the love that hadn't wavered for a moment when he'd opened the cupboard door and found a monster. " _Beautiful_ ," he insisted. 

In that moment, pleasure shooting through Loki's body, he believed him.

.


	27. Rough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Rough sex, off-screen attempted assassination, they deserve each other, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posted vaguely early because I have a book I'm supposed to be editing. *oops*

Loki smirked down at his opponent; another would-be assassin sent by whichever of his many enemies had discovered the realm he currently resided in. Usually, he liked to send the bodies back, but he wasn't sure there was enough left under the pile of construction pipes the fool had dropped on himself. (Given, he'd thought Loki was in the way, and he probably hadn't realised how prone to swinging the metal cords of Midgard actually were. Especially when Loki controlled the direction of the swing.) 

Still, if he didn't at least _attempt_ to clean it up, Thomas would be upset. And an upset Thomas was no fun for anyone. In Loki's experience. 

So he sighed and expended a little more magic to vanish the body back to whoever had hired it, then fixed the fallen pipes. 

With that all done, he returned to Thomas' current hotel room. 

Thomas jumped off the bed, concern in his eyes as he looked Loki over. "What happened?" he demanded. 

Loki was confused for a moment, but then Thomas was gently touching a healing cut along his jaw and Loki hissed in surprise. "Nothing important." 

"Right." Thomas gave him a _look_ , then leaned forward and kissed the wound. 

The action gave birth to a complicated mix of irritation and fondness and disbelief and inexplicable rage, and Loki didn't know what to do for a moment. Then, quick as the snakes he liked to torment people with, he pushed Thomas face-first against the nearest wall, the human's hair tickling along the wound. "I'm not interested in _gentle_ , mortal," he warned, because that was where the anger had come from. Thomas was often gentle, and while Loki bore it with fondness for this mortal who had gone above and beyond to heal his ruined heart, he had no interest in such kindness after he'd just crushed an enemy. Literally, in this case. 

Thomas was tense for a moment before relaxing back against him. "Was that a _threat_ , or a _promise_?" he enquired evenly. 

Loki reached down and gripped the human's hip tight enough that Thomas gasped, one hand grabbing for the wall as though it would be his salvation. "Both," he decided. 

One blue eye peeked back at him even as Thomas' rear pressed against Loki's pelvis, bringing his interest to life with a roar. "Am I to be punished for my misbehaviour?" he wondered, his voice honeyed in a way that he'd stolen from Loki. 

Loki moved the hand on Thomas' hip to the front of his trousers, earning a needy moan from his mortal; proof that Thomas wasn't just offering himself up to sate Loki's sexual appetite, as he'd done a few times when he was still trying to repair Loki's sharp edges. With the assurance, Loki pushed away any thought of holding back and snarled, "Absolutely," in Thomas' ear, before waving a hand to clear the laptop and script off the bed. "I shall make you howl, so every other resident of this building is aware that you have transgressed." 

Thomas shuddered. "You're going to get me into so much trouble," he whispered. 

Loki chuckled, voice pitched low. "Oh no, my mortal. This trouble you have made for yourself." He pulled Thomas away from the wall and shoved him over to the bed, still pressing against his back. "Tell me I can destroy your garments." 

Thomas shuddered again. "Since when have you needed my permission?" 

Loki smirked. "I don't," he replied before taking the bottom hem of Thomas' shirt between his hands and tearing it with a particularly strong yank. (And maybe a little spark of magic to get it started, because Loki was not, thankfully, a brute.) 

Thomas let out a breathless laugh and pushed his rear to Loki's crotch again. "Are you done proving your physical strength? Can you just vanish everything now?" 

"Impertinent," Loki snarled as he motioned to vanish both of their clothing. 

"Learned from the best," Thomas quipped before letting out a whimper as Loki bit his shoulder hard enough to draw blood. 

Loki licked over the wound, letting his lover's shuddering breath be the only sound between them for one long moment. 

Then, without giving even a hint of warning, he shoved Thomas' upper body down towards the bed with one hand, the other casting a quick spell to keep him from truly hurting the mortal. Before Thomas could catch his breath around his grunt of surprise, Loki was breeching him, the spell causing his muscles to relax and stretch with only a fraction of the pain he should have suffered from the unforgiving entrance. 

Beneath Loki, Thomas cried out, the sound a mix of pain and pleasure. He fisted his hands in the boring hotel sheets, hiding his face away from Loki, as though ashamed. 

Loki pressed against Thomas' back and nipped at the skin around his previous bite mark. "Shall I attempt to break the bed?" he murmured. 

Thomas' breath hitched with a laugh. "Only if you fix it later." His voice was shaky, but not quite to the point that Loki had long marked as his having gone too far. 

Loki straightened and looked down at where they were connected. "I do what I want, Thomas," he reminded the mortal before he started fucking him far harder than he ever would have without the spell in place. Hard enough that even an Asgardian would have felt the ache. 

Thomas moaned into the sheets, his stance widening ever so slightly. One of his hands unclenched from the sheets to reach back and wrap around the wrist of the hand Loki had latched around his hip tight enough to bruise. When he made to ease the pressure, Thomas squeezed his wrist, a silent signal for him to leave it there. 

"Masochist," Loki spat, even as he tightened his grip. His other hand, pressing against the middle of Thomas' back to keep him face-down against the sheets, slid up to the bite he'd left. He pressed his fingers against the centre of the mark. 

Thomas cried out, his back bowing in an attempt to get away from the new source of pain. Loki allowed him the relief, instead dragging his nails down the mortal's back to watch it bend the other way. 

When Loki's nails reached the human's tailbone, he slipped his hand around to squeeze his other hip, wringing a whimper out of the mortal between the grunts and groans he was muffling against the bed. Then Loki moved that hand down to wrap against Thomas' leaking member and there, _there_ , was the howl he'd been aiming for. Loud enough to echo ever so slightly off the bare sections of wall. 

Certainly loud enough to disturb a couple of their neighbours. Which was exactly what Loki wanted. 

Thomas howled again when he released, though he largely managed to muffle it with the sheets, that time. (Loki was only a little disappointed; he knew how Thomas felt about disturbing other people unnecessarily.) 

Loki came to the sound of someone pounding on their door. He gave himself a moment's pause, then pulled out of Thomas – causing the mortal to let out a broken whimper – and stalked over to the door. A glance through the little peephole showed the interruption to be who he expected, so he didn't bother opening the door to announce, "He's not dead. Fuck off." 

"Dammit, Loki," Luke complained through the door. "I know you're capable of keeping things quiet." 

"Capable, certainly, but uninterested." 

Through the peephole, Loki watched Luke rub at his face before throwing up his hands in defeat and walking away. 

Victorious, Loki returned to his mortal. Thomas had climbed up onto the bed, the comforter kicked off in a heap, and was watching Loki through reddened eyes. The bite on his shoulder was bright and painful-looking, and Loki was immediately filled with regret for the pain he'd caused. 

He climbed onto the bed and brushed one hand up Thomas' leg and side, fingers tingling with magic meant to seek out and heal the aches and wounds he'd caused. Thomas let out a quiet breath of relief and Loki bit back a curse. "Apologies, Thomas," he murmured as he laid down next to him. 

Thomas snorted. "For tormenting Luke? I'm not the one you need to be apologising to." 

Loki rolled his eyes and gently touched the faint scar his magic couldn't quite remove from Thomas' shoulder. "For causing you pain." 

Thomas caught Loki's hand in his own and brought it over to kiss his knuckles. "Hey. _I_ cajoled _you_. Stop taking all the credit for my bad decisions." 

Loki took the olive branch, as intended. "You admit it was a bad decision." 

The mortal grinned and leaned forward to kiss Loki's jaw, reminding him about the cut he'd never bothered healing. "Most of them are, when you're involved. It's a particular power you have." 

Loki smirked and nipped his nose. "I know," he confided before swallowing the loud laugh Thomas let loose.

.


	28. Temperature Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Jötunn!Loki, cold play, sensory deprivation, bondage, Loki is a little shit, PWP, rough sex, technically an AU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had thoughts of this taking place in the _The Snow King_ universe, but when I sat down to start writing, it didn't go that way. Oh well.

Cold brushed against his hip and Tom clenched his hands into fists where they were tied to the headboard above him, trying his damnedest to keep from moving towards the touch. He knew that, if he did, Loki would back off. Stillness was rewarded, movement punished. 

The brush turned firmer, more of an obvious hand. Fingers traced the edge of his hip bone before moving in, towards his cock.

'Please,' Tom said, uncertain if Loki could even hear him, a spell having turned him deaf. 

A mouth pressed against his cheek, the smile obvious and a little mocking. 

The hand on his pelvis retreated, returning to his hip before brushing up his side, goose bumps rising in its wake. 

Tom's mouth opened in a silent gasp before moving in a mantra; Loki's name interspersed with pleas for more. 

A cold tongue licked at his ear, leaving the sensation of being given a wet willy, and Tom flinched. Air puffed against the side of his face like a laugh, and he turned to grimace at where he thought the god was. 

Loki retaliated by licking his other ear, cold and wet and _ugh_.

'Not sexy, love,' he said, enunciating carefully in hopes that Loki would get it and _fuck off_ about his ears. 

Loki's response was to curl a hand around Tom's cock, sudden and freezing and fucking _perfect_. Tom couldn't help but arch into the touch, a cry tickling his throat. 

Loki's hands vanished from him, punishing him for the movement, and Tom groaned, relaxing back against the magically warmed bed with resignation. 

He didn't have to wait anywhere near as long as the last time before there were hands sliding up the insides of his legs, fingers catching against the dip of his knees as they passed. The hair of his legs stood up straight, trying to protect him from the chill, and Tom groaned as his cock twitched at the sensation. 

He could almost hear Loki chuckling and calling him 'deviant', as though it wasn't _completely_ Loki's fault cold had become so fully entwined with sexual pleasure in Tom's mind. Damn frost giant. 

The hands stopped at his thighs, just shy of where his sack hung heavy against his perineum. There was a moment's stillness, Tom half afraid Loki would do something to upset his most defenceless body part, just because he could. 

But then warm air rushed against him, wrapping protectively around his balls and keeping the seed within safe from the cold. Tom couldn't help but relax, letting out a breath of relief, and Loki pinched his thighs in retaliation for the lack of trust. He flinched at the sharp pain. 

Loki's hands slipped under Tom's thighs and firmly raised them up, spreading them until Tom was nearly doing a split, grimacing at the discomfort of straining muscles. 

Something soft wrapped around his ankles, holding them in place. Cold hands spread along the straining muscles, soothing them so Tom could hold the position for a while. When he finally freed Tom later, he knew, any ache would be minimal, and eased away by Loki as soon as Tom gave a hint of its presence. 

There were a great many perks to having a sexual partner capable of utilising magic. 

Loki's hands traced the dip where his legs joined with his butt cheeks, taking care to keep from touching where Tom wanted him most, and Tom let out a hopeful noise. 

Two fingers immediately pushed into him, cold and slick, and Tom shouted in surprise, body jerking. 

Loki's free hand ran gently over one thigh, soothing and apologising, though Tom was sure his lover was far from sorry. 'Sadist,' he muttered. 

Teeth nipped at his inner thigh, making Tom jerk and hiss. The hand on his thigh retreated, leaving only the fingers gently scissoring him open as contact between them. 

And then, without warning, those fingers pulled away too. 

Tom held his breath, expecting a cock to fill him, but none did. 

There was a long stillness, no hint of Loki anywhere near him. 

Tom swallowed, reminding himself that the god wouldn't leave him, not when he was defenceless. He was nearby, probably enjoying watching him try not to panic. 'Loki?' he breathed, turning his head from side to side, as though that would help him locate the god. 

And then something was pushing into him, edging towards too rough, and Tom couldn't keep from shouting, frightened. 

The all-encompassing darkness vanished, and he could suddenly see again. Red eyes gleamed down at him, a sort of sadistic pleasure twisting his mouth. But, as horrifying as the face might have been to another, it was familiar to Tom, and he relaxed at the assurance that it was his lover who had entered him. 

Cold hands spread out over his chest, and Tom glanced down to see the blue against the flush of his chilled skin. Between Loki's arms, stark against the blue of his abdomen, Tom could see his cock laying heavy against his belly, the head a deep red-purple and leaking. 

Loki withdrew, then shoved back in as ice encased Tom's nipples, gifts of the hands still resting above them. 

Tom arched up, closing his eyes so he could return to pretending he could only be aware of Loki through physical touch. 

Loki's fingers traced patterns over Tom's chest and abdomen, shying away from his cock as they traced non-existent Jötunn markings. 

Tom became aware of his own lips moving, breath passing them as he chanted words that he couldn't quite parse out with Loki's hands all over his upper body, his sides brushing against Tom's spread thighs with each thrust of the cold cock invading him. 

There was no warning before a hand wrapped around his cock, almost painfully cold, and Tom screamed his release. 

After, when Loki had come himself, then released Tom from all his magical bindings, he hit the god and snapped, "Don't _scare_ me like that again!" 

Loki chuckled and pressed icy lips against Tom's. "Wasn't that the point?" 

Tom huffed and turned his back on the Jötunn. 

Loki pressed against him, mild chill of his skin making Tom shiver. "I'm grateful for your trust," he murmured against Tom's ear. 

"If you lick my ear again, you're sleeping downstairs," Tom threatened. 

Loki chuckled again, then stuck his tongue in Tom's ear. 

Tom turned and beat him with the first pillow to hand, but he never bothered attempting to kick him out.

..


	29. Phone Sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Phone sex, Tom's got a dirty mouth, Loki does what he wants, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's all be honest here, Loki would fail miserably at phone sex. He'd rather get his hands on his partner.

_"What are you wearing?"_ a familiar voice asked when Tom answered his mobile distractedly. 

He jerked in surprise and pulled the device away from his ear to check the caller id – it said 'Home' – then put it back to his ear and asked, "Is there a particular reason you're _actually_ using a phone?" Loki had a habit of insulting Earth technology, for all that he used most of it quite happily once he'd given it a chance. Phones were one of the few things he'd been quite determined to avoid, insisting that if he wanted to talk to someone, he would simply go to them and talk. 

Loki huffed. _"Just answer the question, Thomas."_

Tom frowned. What was Loki's question again? What was he wearing? 

And that's when it clicked, _someone told Loki about phone sex_.

Tom took a quick glance around his hotel room – as if anyone could sneak in with the safety bar in place – and relaxed back in his chair. "I'm wearing jeans and a t-shirt." He paused as Loki let out an irritated sound. "I've been touring the city all afternoon," he reminded the god drily; Loki had vanished in a huff when Tom had refused to stay inside with him all day. "What are _you_ wearing, then?" 

Loki sniffed. _"Nothing."_

Of course. "And what are you doing? Besides ringing me up for phone sex?" 

There was a long moment's silence, then Loki muttered, _"Of **course** you'd ruin it."_

Tom rolled his eyes. "Love, the only reason someone rings someone else and asks what they're wearing is if they want to have phone sex. Where did you even find out about it, anyway?" 

_"The internet."_

Tom rubbed at his eyes and waited for Loki to continue with his new game, but when the silence stretched, he realised it was going to be up to him. "Put your hand on your chest and slide it down your sternum." 

_"Why?"_ Loki demanded suspiciously. 

"Loki." 

Loki huffed. _" **Fine**."_

" _Slowly_ ," Tom insisted. "Close your eyes and feel it for a minute. The way your skin prickles as your fingers pass over, how they feel just the littlest bit colder. Unless you've been sitting on them." 

Loki let out a quiet noise that was failing to communicate his derision at the idea of him actually _sitting on his hands_ like a child trying to keep himself from misbehaving. 

Tom smiled and rested his free hand against his stomach, tugging at his shirt in a half-hearted attempt to get it out of his trousers; he'd agreed to dinner with some of his fellow actors, so he didn't really want to get undressed, but if this got as arousing as most of his interactions with his lover got, he wasn't going to be able to join them until he'd jerked off. "Bring your other hand up to your mouth," he ordered. 

Loki breathed out a word that wasn't English – a spell or explicative, Tom assumed – before there was the unmistakable sound of Loki sucking on fingers. 

Tom's cock twitched in his pants, long conditioned to know that sound meant sex. He swallowed and started tugging a bit harder on his shirt. "Don't touch your cock," he directed, somehow managing to keep his voice steady. "Trace around the edge of your hip and down to your thighs." 

Loki let out a muffled sound. _"T'omus,"_ he mumbled. 

"Not yet," Tom murmured, starting on his own flies. "Open your legs and touch along the insides of your thighs. It might tickle a bit, but–"

That was _absolutely_ a moan. 

"Loki," Tom said, firming his voice even as he raised his arse off the chair enough to pull down his tight jeans a bit, "I said _no_."

_"Not here, can't stop me,"_ Loki pointed out before moaning again. 

"I'll hang up." 

There was a long pause, then Loki let out an irritated noise and started sucking angrily at his fingers. 

Tom swallowed a laugh. "Stop that. Do you want to know what my hand is doing?" 

_"Hovering over the end call button?"_ Loki returned bitterly. 

Tom rolled his eyes. "Pessimist." He glanced down at where he'd finally freed his cock from his pants. "You made me stain the front of my pants, you know. I had to pull myself out before it got so bad I'd have to change them." 

Loki let out a pleased noise. _"Were you imagining my face as you ordered me around, Thomas?"_ he practically purred. 

Tom hummed. "Your face, your whole body, the way your throat moves when you swallow around your own fingers..." He trailed off with a smile when Loki let out a quiet groan. "I can practically feel your tongue between my fingers, getting them good and wet so I can push them into you, stretch you to take my cock." 

Loki let out a pitiful little whine. _"I hate you."_

"I know," Tom agreed, because he knew Loki meant the opposite. "You should prepare yourself for me. Get yourself nice and loose, so I can push all the way in right from the start. Take you hard and fast, just like you want." 

_"Damn you,"_ Loki gasped out, and Tom thought he heard fabric shifting, as though the god was turning on his side and leaning down, back curving outwards and showing off the hard edge of his spine. He'd rest his forearm against the outside of his thigh, wrist curving around one butt cheek and–

Loki breathed out what Tom _knew_ was a spell, being familiar with Loki using it to slick his insides once Tom had pressed a finger inside him – Loki refused to cast it sooner or allow Tom to use human lube, for whatever reason. The god followed that with a breathless grunt, then hissed, _"Don't just sit there in– Oooooh... F-fu– Say something!"_ he finally got out, followed by a muffled whine. 

Tom let himself smile, not even caring if Loki heard it in his voice when he murmured, "You want me to speak over you? Are you embarrassed that I love listening to the noises you make?" 

Loki whined again, louder. 

"I know that sound," Tom confided, finally giving in to his own body's increasing demands and wrapping his hand around his cock. "You're rubbing over your prostrate, aren't you? With two fingers in, you can alternate them, never quite letting it alo–"

Loki let out a snarl before there was a loud thump on his end. Tom just had enough time to wonder what had happened before he had a lapful of horny god. " _Damn you_ ," he complained as he batted Tom's hand away from his cock, then smoothly guided himself down onto it. 

Tom let his mobile drop to the floor, hands falling naturally to his lover's waist as he breathed, "Oh my _God_. Fuck, Loki, you–"

"I will not be _teased_ by your voice when I can _have you_ ," Loki hissed before rolling his hips, setting them both off with moans. 

Tom sucked in a deep breath, sure he would need it very shortly. "Have me, then," he returned, meeting the burning green eyes above him. Before Loki could do more than roll his hips again, though, Tom grabbed a handful of black hair and tugged the god's head down so he could whisper in his ear, "And I'll have you, writhing in my lap, making the most _arousing_ noises I have ever heard. And you will _love every moment_."

Loki let out a whimper, fingers digging into Tom's biceps hard enough to leave bruises, then started fucking himself with Tom's cock, his own sliding between them and probably making a complete mess of Tom's shirt – and his plans for the evening – but Tom couldn't find it in himself to care. Not with Loki gasping and moaning in his ear, just the right volume that Tom knew this was just for him. 

Loki's cry – as he stained Tom's shirt, ensuring he would be staying in – was loud enough that the neighbours three rooms over probably knew they were having sex. 

Not that Tom could really find it in himself to care about much of anything right then, to be honest. 

Not long after, once Tom's dirty clothing had been shoved into a pile for housekeeping and a text had been sent off to let the others know he wasn't coming, Tom ran his fingers through long black hair and asked, "So, phone sex. Yes or no?" 

Loki huffed and bit the nipple within easy reach of his teeth, making Tom hiss and tug on his hair. "No." He raised his head from Tom's chest and gave him a superior look. "I would much rather order _you_ around." 

Tom snorted and used the hand he still had tangled in Loki's hair to drag his head back down against his chest. "If you hadn't chickened out, you could have." 

"I am not poultry," Loki muttered, but he sounded more thoughtful than irritated. 

Tom had a feeling he would be enjoying Loki's brand of phone sex again soon enough.

.


	30. Author's Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Chapter Warnings:** Tentacle monster, double penetration, non-con, crack, PWP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so far from sorry, you have no idea. XD
> 
> I'm a little torn about this day. On one hand, it's over, and that's kind of a relief. (I shall enjoy sleeping in past one pm, because I am stupid and constantly don't go to bed until after six am.) On the other hand, I will miss the reactions and the reviews. Because I ~~am an unapologetic review whore~~ live off those. Just a bit. XD
> 
> In other news, following in my dedicating-chapters-without-actually-dedicating-them, this one goes to Jee, who I accidentally found out shares my tentacle rape kink. Hope it was worth the wait, darling. ;D

The crash caught his attention, the snarled curses in another language his interest, but it wasn't until Loki actually _screamed_ that Tom got up and hurried upstairs to the second bedroom, which the god had turned into something of a magical office when Tom had been out of the country at one point. "Loki?" he called, knocking on the closed door. 

"Don't come i–! _Hah_ , nnnn..." 

Tom raised both eyebrows. That sounded suspiciously like Loki having fun with his clones. But telling him not to come in? 

There was another crash, and Loki shouting, "No! Don't you _da_ – Oh. Oh, fu–"

Tom tested the knob and it turned easily. He pushed the door open just enough to peek his head in, see what his lover was up to. It...wasn't anything like he could have expected, even when one was used to dealing with the God of Mischief. 

There was a splash of water across the floor, spotted with broken glass. Writhing above the mess was a mass of transparent green tentacles. Loki was held tight between two of them, his trousers ripped out at the crotch and another two tentacles taking turns fucking into his anus. His head was thrown back, hair stringing wetly against his bare back and shoulders, a fifth tentacle in his open mouth. 

Tom just had enough time to take all of this in and realise he was in way over his head, before a mass of tentacles was wrenching the door the rest of the way open and catching around his wrists. "Hey!" Tom shouted, giving one rough tug before the tentacles picked him up by his wrists. 

Loki's head twisted at Tom's shout, his eyes going wide with horror to see Tom captured. He managed to thrash for approximately point two seconds, then the two tentacles vying for his arse entered him together, rough enough that his body went taut, face twisting with pain. 

"Leave him alone!" Tom snapped, kicking at the nearest tentacle. His foot went through it, then got trapped inside, holding him as effectively as the tentacles wrapped around his wrists. 

The creature brought Tom over to face Loki before unceremoniously sticking a tentacle down both the front and the back of his trousers and shoving them down. "Wait, what are you–?"

A tentacle, cool and damp, circled his entrance, while another one wrapped itself multiple times around his cock and began sort of... _throbbing_ around him. 

"Oh my God," Tom moaned, relaxing back into the thing's hold on him. Because as much as he wanted to get free, it was clear it wasn't happening, and Tom had learned when he was best off giving in. 

Loki let out a gagging noise, then spat. Tom looked up to find him free of the tentacle in his mouth and scowling at him. "I told you _not_ to k-come in," he snarled. Or, well, tried to snarl. It was a little ruined by the breathless quality to his voice, and the way his voice hitched when a tentacle slithered up his chest to stroke his throat. 

"Curi–ous," Tom gasped out as the tentacle behind him started sliding in, thin enough that he barely felt it, save for the slither of chill against his sphincter. The tentacle sliding over his legs and up, under his shirt, however, he felt. 

"Moron," Loki got out before the tentacle from before was gagging him again. 

There was a faint pressure at his entrance, and it took Tom a moment to realise the tentacle inside him was carefully expanding, stretching him at a rate that his body could adapt to with no pain. It was intriguing, that whatever this thing was understood that it could hurt him and wanted to avoid that, but didn't seem to care if it hurt Loki. (Or it was learning from Loki's reactions, which was also possible.) 

The tentacle under his shirt felt like it split in two – or another one had joined it, it was hard to tell with his shirt in the way – and each tip circled around his nipples once before forming tight rings around them and _pulling_.

Tom arched into it, gasping, and the one wrapped around his cock – which had fallen still at one point, only acting as a cool pressure – pulsed around him, massaging every inch of his length at once. It was... God. It was like being inside a lover, their body clenching around him, but strangely cold. And then, to have something inside him, at the same time–

The tentacle inside him jabbed his prostate, hard and unforgiving, and Tom let out a scream as he released. 

The tentacles gently lowered him to the ground as he sagged, taking care to settle him in the doorway, beyond the broken glass. When his legs wouldn't hold his weight, a tentacle caught him around the waist, while another slid gently up his back, supporting him. 

"Loki," he called back, becoming aware of the god snarling past the tentacle in his mouth. "Loki, it's okay. I'm okay." He looked back up at the god, grabbing for the doorway to support himself, though it was clear the tentacles weren't about to let him fall. 

Loki looked like a piece of meat on display, impaled at both ends and held stretched between tentacles, another tentacle wrapped around his torso and stroking his extended throat. There was panic in his eyes, but it calmed when Tom caught his gaze and smiled. 

Loki jerked in surprise when one of the tentacles in his arse slipped out and dragged itself forwards, over his perineum and around his scrotum. It curled loosely around his dripping cock. The tip of it hollowed, forming a sort of mouth, and slipped over the head of Loki's cock before it tightened. 

Tom tightened his grip on the doorframe as Loki closed his eyes and finally let go, body shuddering once before going taut. He released into the tentacle, and Tom watched, eyes wide, as the stream of ejaculate flowed down into what must have been the creature's body. There was already a similar-looking mass there, and when Loki's ejaculate reached it, the two seemed to mingle. 

"What were you _doing_?" Tom breathed as Loki was gently deposited next to him. As soon as it was clear that Tom could support both of their weight, the tentacles holding both of them retreated towards the central mass. 

Loki sighed, clearly exhausted. "Spell with water," he mumbled. "Lost control." 

"Were you _trying_ to make it sentient?" Tom wondered as the tentacles mostly retracted into the centre, leaving behind only four, which it carefully used to raise itself off the floor, like legs. 

"Was I– Norns..." Loki rose his head from where he'd pillowed it on Tom's shoulder and stared at the creature, which appeared to be attempting to make itself a head, but really only managing a short, thick tentacle. 

"There's probably something wrong with being okay with a pet tentacle monster, isn't there?" Tom commented. 

"We are _not_ keeping it!" Loki snapped, jerking upright and almost overbalancing himself. 

The creature bristled, ripples like tiny tentacles forming around its centre mass. 

"I don't think it's giving us a choice, darling," Tom pointed out drily. "How are you planning to get rid of a creature that, quite literally, had you at its mercy? _You_."

"I'll transport it to the _Void_ ," Loki spat. 

The creature flinched back. Tom had a sneaking suspicion that it both understood them, and had some sort of access to their memories, between Loki's magic giving it life and their spunk acting as a sort of... Tom was hesitant to think of it as being a brain, but that did seem to be what it was using it for. 

"Loki," he cautioned. 

Loki turned to him, eyes flashing with fury and retribution. "It _raped you_ ," he hissed, arm tightening around Tom's waist. 

_Ah,_ Tom realised, _so that's what this is about._ He reached up and touched Loki's cheek. "Imagine what it would do if Thor came by for another visit," he suggested, instead of acknowledging the elephant in the room. 

Loki's eyes went wide, then narrowed, a gleam in them suggesting he was, indeed, imagining just such a moment. 

Tom gently pulled away from him and stepped back into the room, avoiding the glass on the ground with care as he approached the creature. When he reached it, he crouched down in front of it and asked, "Can you understand me?" 

It was still for a moment before the short tentacle acting like a head wiggled in an approximation of a nod. 

"Do you understand why what you did was wrong?" Tom asked, getting straight to the point. He could feel Loki approaching, his magic clearing a safe path for him in a way that Tom had been unable to do. 

The creature sank down, closer to the floor, and moved it's 'head' in another nod. 

Tom reached out and rested one hand against its 'body', smiling sadly when it flinched, clearly expecting violence. "Don't do it again," he suggested. 

Loki sighed, his hands resting gently on Tom's shoulders as his magic continued cleaning up the mess. "We're keeping it?" he asked, resigned. 

Tom turned his head and pressed a kiss to the god's hand. "Everyone deserves a second chance, Loki."

.


End file.
